


Achromatic

by theinvisiblesister



Series: Achromatic [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Car Accidents, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Five Stages of Grief, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Heavy Drinking, Isolation, M/M, Medication, Non-Canonical Character Death, Oral Sex, Smoking, Symbolism, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2018-12-24 16:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 39,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12016587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisiblesister/pseuds/theinvisiblesister
Summary: 2D is killed in an accident, and the rest of the Gorillaz must cope with grief as their dysfunctional life reaches its breaking point. In the process, Murdoc realizes that his life will never be the same without him.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyo kiddies
> 
> For those of you who don't know me, I am _theinvisiblesister_, but you can call me by my pseudonym, capri succ. My main writing source is Wattpad, but I decided to expand my sources and come to AO3! Achromatic is being updated on Wattpad currently, but I wanted to see how much reception the story will get here as well! 
> 
> I have been working on this since June of 2016, although the prologue was published on Wattpad September 4th, 2016...so it's been a continuing year-long battle for me to write this story, most of it being in the midst of a mental breakdown that eventually led to my depression. Needless to say, Gorillaz has saved my life in more ways than one, and writing Achromatic has made me realize I'm still finding myself.
> 
> As said before, this is a work in progress, and I try to update as much as possible. Being in college, I have homework pretty much every night, along with other activities, social events, work study, and not to mention s t u d e n t l o a n s
> 
> That being said, hope you all enjoy!
> 
> ~_theinvisiblesister_

Murdoc Niccals stood on the edge of the beach, with an almost burnt-out cigarette in his hand. He watched as the sea lapped gently against the coast, sending a gentle mist of salt and water to fly into his face.  
Murdoc looked at his cigarette, good enough for one last drag. He brought it to his lips, kissed it and inhaled. Exhaled. Then it's gone. He threw the cigarette into the sand, watching the ember slowly fade away. At that moment, the sun had disappeared under the waves.  
"Still doesn't seem real, does it?" a voice from behind him spoke.  
Murdoc sighed. "Life itself is a nightmare. He just wake up too early," he replied hoarsely.  
Russel Hobbs sat down in the beach, drawing circles in the sand. "Then we still must be sleepin,'  
"We're getting out of this hellhole, Russel," Murdoc said. "I can't stand to be here much longer,"  
"We can't escape from reality, Muds," Russel replied bleakly. "There was nothing we could've done,"  
The two of them sat in complete silence, watching; listening to the ocean speak to them.


	2. Chapter One

"...And as we are gathered here today to remember our beloved Stuart Harold Pot, let us be reminded of his kindness, generosity, and inspiration towards those he knew and loved..."  
As the pastor made his sermon in the crowded Hertfordshire funeral home, three certain figures stood out among 2D's family and several acquaintances: Murdoc, Russel and Noodle sat together, hand in hand and clothed entirely in black. They sat intently, small tears dropping from their eyes and onto their laps from every word the pastor was speaking. It had been one week since 2D's third and fatal accident, and to them had only happened yesterday.  
The trio was in the front row, giving them a clear view of their frontman laying peacefully in his coffin, cladded in a powder blue suit and his bright azure hair pulled back neatly. Murdoc gazed at 2D as if he was fast asleep rather than he had just passed away, and that he would just wake up, maybe panic a little then get up from his coffin as if nothing had happened at all.  
But despite Murdoc's ambitions, it did not happen.  
Sitting right beside Russel were David and Rachel Pot, 2D's parents who were in their mid-seventies. It was Russel who had informed them of their son's passing, and provided himself as a rock of support for their mourning. David and Rachel held each other, shaking with sobs as Russel handed them more tissues. Rachel looked up at the drummer with sincerity and gently dabbed her eyes.  
"...If anyone would like to share a word about our brother Stuart, speak now or forever hold your peace," the pastor continued.  
The people shifted in their seats in silence, looking around the room for someone, if not anyone to stand up. The only sound came from a single fly, which aimlessly buzzed among the mourners. After a few seconds of silence, the fly perched itself on Murdoc's shoulder. He whisked it away irritably until it started to buzz again.  
The pastor's eyes under his bifocals glazed around the room. He cleared his throat and said solemnly: "Then please rise for the procession,"  
The wooden chairs shifted and creaked as the mourners rose from their seats. Soft music began to play from a small organ in the back of the funeral home, sending a sudden flood of emotion towards 2D's parents and his band mates. Russel reached his hand towards Noodle's and she gripped it as if she was hanging on for her dear life. Fresh tears began to pour down her face as the pastor slowly closed 2D's casket and began to roll it down the aisle. Murdoc, who was sitting on her right, took her other hand and watched as the singer: his singer rolled away and out of the funeral home.  
~~~  
Stuart Pot was buried in the only cemetery in Hertfordshire, where his grave was prepared beside his grandfather on one side, and a small apple tree on the other. The end of autumn was quickly approaching, sending a cold wind through the mourners that stood gloomily beside the grave.  
Murdoc, Russel and Noodle huddled close together to shelter themselves from the breeze, despite that they were wearing thick jackets. A sudden, sharp wind seemed to cut right through Noodle, causing her to lose balance under her own weight and right onto Russel's chest.  
The pastor continued to make his last sermon, but the trio couldn't make out a single word he was speaking, because of the wind that drowned out his voice to a muffle. They remained close together, shivering from the cold that tore through them.  
Then at last, the sermon was over and the mourners began to walk towards their cars and drive onto the highway. David and Rachel Pot were the only ones who remained by their son's graveside: like the trio, they were huddled against each other, bundled in layers and resting their hands against the surface of the coffin. They rested their heads against each other and began to cry once more.  
Murdoc and Noodle watched as Russel walked towards the couple and began to speak to them. He put a hand on Rachel's shoulder, said something to her and then held out his arms for her in an embrace.  
Murdoc looked at the apple tree that moved in rhythm with the blowing wind. Then as the first snow began to fall, the last leaf hanging from the branch fell and drifted until it landed right on top of the coffin.  
"...Of course we'll never forget him, Rachel," Russel said softly. "Stuart...he was one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of knowing,"  
"Oh, Russel, what would we ever do without you?" Rachel said, choking back another sob.  
"There, there, Rachel," her husband said. He looked up at Russel. "We really do appreciate your kindness, Mr. Hobbs. How can we ever thank you?"  
"There's no need for that, sir," Russel replied. "If you two need anything at all, just give me a call and I'll be there as soon as I can,"  
"Yes, we will. Thank you so much," David said. "Truly, we appreciate all you've done,"  
"It's no problem at all. You guys take care of yourselves, alright?"  
"Goodbye, Russel," Rachel said.  
"It's been a pleasure meeting you," David added.  
Russel smiled at them. He looked at 2D's coffin, placed a hand on it and said: "I'm so sorry I let this happen, D.”


	3. Chapter Two

"Russel, you're speeding again,"

"Calm down, mate, I'm only going forty- five,"

"I can read that thing, ya know, and it says you're going fifty. Slow down, for Pete's sake,"

Russel sighed heavily as he slowly let his foot off the gas. Murdoc sat beside him in the passenger seat, while Noodle was asleep in the back. Ever since 2D's accident, the three of them were now extremely paranoid about driving, and the hour-long drive from Hertfordshire to London had caused them a great amount of stress. Murdoc was the only one who was still willing to drive but only under Russel's very cautious supervision.

When the trio arrived at their flat near London's downtown area, Russel parked their car on the curb. They had been gone for two days, staying with 2D's parents in Hertfordshire for emotional support and making plans for the wake and funeral service. Russel opened the mailbox only to find a couple of bills and letters that were addressed to 2D. He looked at the letters, remembering he would have to be the one to cancel his subscriptions and bank accounts. Also, his employer at the local paper mill would have to find a replacement for 2D.

When they entered the flat, it was still just as cluttered just as they had left it. But there was no point in tidying when other matters had to be taken care of. Russel, Murdoc, and Noodle sat in different places in the living room and did not eat or utter a single word for an hour.

In Russel's perspective, 2D was losing Del all over again. He had lost not one, but now two of his brothers. He sat down beside Murdoc and Noodle, feeling more tears starting to sting his eyes. The lump that rose in his throat swelled with every passing minute until it finally burst.

Russel began to weep, softly at first, then more intense as a huge stream of tears rolled down his face.

"This is all my fault," Russel said between his earth-shattering sobs. "If I hadn't let him leave so early, then maybe..h-he would've-"

"Russel, please don't blame yourself for this," Noodle said softly. "You didn't do anything wrong,"

"2D was my brother, Noodle! Our brother! He doesn't deserve this. I would've never let this happen, not after what happened to Del, or you, or..."

Noodle blinked. "What do you mean, me?"

Russel wiped his nose with his sleeve, then took a deep breath. "When you went missin', I thought I'd never see my baby girl again," he said. "But when I found you, in the ocean, it was like seeing an angel. That was the happiest day of my life,"

At the sight of Russel's despair, Noodle began to sob too. She gently took Russel's face in her hands, wiping his tears away.

"Russel, look at me,"

A pair of milky white eyes met the broken, yet joyful eyes of Noodle. She spoke softly to him: "You are not responsible for any of this," Noodle planted a kiss on Russel's cheek and continued to wipe away his tears. The two of them embraced, breathing in rhythm with each other's deep sobbing.

Murdoc just sat motionless, letting his own tears drift down and onto his clothes. 

"He's really gone this time, isn't he?" Murdoc murmured.

Russel and Noodle couldn't recall a single time when Murdoc shed a tear. He was drained of his emotions long ago, but it was as if they were suddenly revived. Russel inched closer to Murdoc, putting his free arm around him.

"I'm afraid so, Muds," Russel croaked. "C'mere,"

Like a mother bear protecting her cubs, Russel sheltered his body around Noodle and Murdoc.

If he was the heart of the Gorillaz, this was the day it stopped beating.


	4. Chapter Three

The first glimpse of snow that had arrived the day before turned into a fairly heavy snowfall that sent chills into the residents of London. It was Sunday, and it was obvious that nobody wanted to be outside because they had no reason to. Yet, Murdoc was up and outside at around eleven to have his daily drag.  
He took the cigarette from his pocket. He inhaled. Exhaled. Indulged.  
Now would usually be around the same time that 2D would walk outside, step up behind Murdoc and say; "Bum me one, mate,"  
Then they would smoke while they watched the morning smog from the local paper mill mix with the snow and pollute the sky and make it turn from gray to deep brown. 2D would say something stupid like; "I'm readin' an article about a new brand of soap. It's kinda interestin',"  
Murdoc would roll his eyes and say; "That sounds really stupid," and 2D would forget about the article entirely.  
By the time Murdoc had stopped thinking, his cigarette fell from his frozen fingers and right onto the ground. It went out, and the smoke began to rise from underneath the snow.  
"Shit," Murdoc cursed under his breath.  
He walked back into the flat and slammed the door shut behind him as hard as he could.  
"Muds, can you not? I'm kind of busting my butt here," Russel sat at the kitchen table surrounded by piles of paperwork: He was the one taking charge of cancelling 2D's credit cards, insurances, bank accounts and his employment at the paper mill.   
Russel had been in same spot for 3 hours straight, completely absorbed with all the responsibilities he had to take care of before going back to his own job at the local pub.  
"Just don't mind me, mate," Murdoc replied.  
"Mhm," Russel said. "Why don't you go help Noodle? She's cleaning out D's room,"  
Murdoc shrugged and began to walk up the two flights of stairs that led all the way to 2D's bedroom on the top floor. The door was open, along with the window curtains which revealed the specks of dust that scattered throughout the bedroom.   
Noodle had just finished packing a box of 2D's old records when she heard Murdoc tap on the door.  
"How's it going in here?" Murdoc asked.  
Noodle wiped a bit of sweat off of her brow. "I've hardly made a dent since this morning: I had to tidy up all the garbage that was left around and find enough boxes for his stuff. I still have to wash all of his clothes and sheets, clean out the medicine cabinet and dust his shelves and God knows what else,"  
Murdoc nodded. He noticed that her eyes were red and splotchy when he turned on the light switch. "Hey, Noodle, are you cryin'?"  
Noodle rubbed her face. "Huh?...Oh, no, just-some dust in my eye is all,"  
Murdoc and Noodle spent the next couple of hours cleaning 2D's bedroom while Russel took care of the legal paperwork; They were so absorbed in their chores, it wasn't until three in the afternoon that they finished and realized that none of them had eaten or drank anything all day.  
"Let's just order somethin'," Murdoc said. "It's less hassle,"  
"We got plenty of leftovers in the fridge, Muds," Russel snapped.  
"Besides, I've been on the phone all day with insurance companies and my ear's still ringing,"  
"Then just let me use the phone-" Noodle started, but Russel held up his hand.  
"-You know what-never mind. I need to go lay down. I'll eat later,"  
Russel left the kitchen in a huff and stomped up the stairs. Murdoc and Noodle sighed in unison, basking in the awkwardness of the situation. Both of them knew better than to argue with Russel.  
Murdoc picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Yes, I'd like two large supreme pizzas....And get them both here in 20 minutes,"


	5. Chapter Four

For once in his life, Murdoc felt empty.

He didn't feel alone when his good-for-nothing father passed away, or when Noodle had gone missing, but today, he had lost 2D. And he felt entirely responsible for it.

The size of his small bedroom that same night felt infinite. Murdoc tossed and turned in his sheets, but nothing seemed to do any good. A siren wailed outside in the streets, followed by a loud screech of tires...

~~~

_"I'm telling you, Stu, this is gonna be the ride of a lifetime, yeah?"_

_Murdoc turned to face the young man in the backseat, who sat, unbuckled with a glazed look in his eye. He remained in his catatonic state, unblinking, completely oblivious to his surroundings._

_Murdoc rolled his eyes. "I had a feeling you were gonna say that-If you even knew what the hell I said, you dumb sonuvabitch!"_

_He threw another burnt out cigarette butt at Stuart, who remained completely motionless._

_Murdoc cackled as he slammed on the gas and took an extremely sharp 360 around the parking lot. Stuart flew limply across the backseat and landed on the other side with a thump. The tires squealed and went up in smoke across the asphalt. That's when Murdoc slammed on the brakes, causing Stuart's body to lurch forward and slump onto the floor._

_"Hm. Forgot to buckle him in...Ah well,"_

_As he said this, Murdoc looked around at the jeering crowd, beckoning and pushing him onward. Despite their joyful cheers, Murdoc began to grow a bit bored of driving aimlessly. He had been dragging the act on for a while now, and was considering giving his crowd the finger and ditching them to go bar hopping or something that would waste the rest of his day._

_He glanced at his ward in the backseat, still motionless on the floor. Murdoc glowered at the younger man, reminded of how his life had been recently wasted in countless hours goddamn community service and spoon feeding Stuart crummy hospital food. Murdoc hated him with every inch in his body, yet he almost began to realize that maybe dragging him out here was crossing the line._

_That's when the women caught Murdoc's attention. They weren't by far the greatest looking women in the world, but he could always tell when they were impressed. Women to him were like mindless sheep, always easy to entertain. Without warning, one of them flashed him, followed with a smile and a few jabbers from the men around her. That sent a sudden wave of adrenaline through Murdoc's body._

_He immediately slammed the gas, accelerating at about 90 mph. There was a crash of glass coming from the rear window and Stuart was no longer in the car._

_Murdoc saw the flash of azure flying away from his side mirror. After Stuart skidded across the asphalt about half a mile, it was all over. Murdoc put the car in park and frantically looked in the direction where Stuart had flown._

_"Oi, that was bloody wicked!" a bearded man from the crowd exclaimed._

_"Muds, you're the craziest bastard I've ever seen!" another man holding a can of beer slapped Murdoc on the back as he exited the car._

_"Let's just hope that young lad isn't dead!"_

_Murdoc laughed and slapped the other man in return. "Are you kidding? I hit that dullard with that same damn car last year and he lived! I tell you, he's good as dead, but he could be immortal! He-"_

_"He's alive!!" a voice from the crowd exclaimed._

_The rain started to pour down, and from it emerged a blue haired, black eyed God. It sent a shiver down Murdoc's spine and his jaw froze wide open as he pushed through the crowd towards the limping figure. When they looked at each other, Stuart's eyes had life and emotion rather than the blank, unresponsive stare he had since the last incident._

_Then, he spoke._

_"Where am I?"_

_Murdoc continued to stare at Stuart, mesmerized by his zombie like face. He responded with: "You're in hell. But ol' Satan's just gonna have to wait to get you in his grip,"_


	6. Chapter Five

The weeks that followed 2D's funeral were generally uneventful: After Russel had finally finished the last of 2D's legal documents, he went back to his job and returned to his almost daily cycle of late night shifts and moderate pay. He made the transition to a nocturnal schedule, sleeping for most of the day and getting up at sunset to drive to the pub.

Noodle spent most of her time endlessly cleaning the flat from top to bottom. It started with casual everyday chores such as picking up garbage, washing dishes and sweeping the floors. But when Noodle began to realize how filthy her surroundings were, the light chores turned into a daily spring cleaning. It ranged from an endless cycle of scrubbing bathrooms, polishing silverware, alphabetizing Russel's record collection and dusting every object within sight until Murdoc would eventually find her passed out on the couch with a broom in one hand and a spray bottle in the other.

As for Murdoc, his days mostly consisted of an relentless cycle of drinking, smoking and sitting alone in 2D's bedroom. When he and Noodle finally finished organizing his stuff, Murdoc stumbled upon a shoebox under his bed that was labeled; 'Music and Shit'. With a small smile, he opened the box, which immediately overflowed with a mountain of notebook paper scribbled with words and music notes.

The first piece of paper that Murdoc picked up from the box was covered in writing, which most of it was scribbled out in black pen. On the top, it read: _"Untitled song for the best bandmates in the world: Murdoc, Russel and Noodle. I miss you guys.”_

Murdoc read the tangled mess of lyrics and notes over and over again, tracing his fingers along the writing that was both visible and scratched out. Once he thought he had memorized the paper, Murdoc looked at the box and began to dig out more paper.

Just like the first song he discovered, all of the sheets were covered front and back with endless writing and scribbling. There were sheets of every shape, size and color, from white notebook paper, pink sticky notes to yellow legal pad paper. Some of them were torn in half, or clumsily stuck back together with glue or tape.

Murdoc looked at 2D's alarm clock, which read 9:30 P.M.

"Murdoc?"

Right on schedule.

"You finished cleaning, Noodle?" Murdoc replied.

"Yeah. I'm just...going to bed,"

"Alright,"

Noodle didn't even bother to enter the bedroom: she stood outside the door clutching a dusting rag in her hand. Every day she was covered in soot and bathroom cleaner and too exhausted to function.

Noodle and Murdoc hardly ever spoke to each other, even when 2D was still around.

Murdoc stayed up for another hour in 2D's bedroom gazing upon his written works. Some of them were very early and poorly written attempts at songs from back when the band still had no name. Murdoc recognized a bunch of drafts, along with endless rhyming lists. But the one that stood out most was the unfinished song 2D had written for them.

_"I miss you guys."_

"We miss you too, kid," Murdoc said.

Murdoc put the paper on 2D's nightstand, and fell fast asleep on top of his bed.


	7. Chapter Six

_"Oh, quit moping. You'll get over her eventually,"_

_"I just don't see why you had to go and do that. She was MY girlfriend, Murdoc. And by all means, you just HAD to go and ruin everything,"_

_Murdoc paused for a second, looking up at the pitiful, 20 somethin' year old singer. "It isn't a total loss, kid...I mean-she was ugly. Retched, if I say so myself,"_

_"I thought she was pretty," 2D grumbled._

_Murdoc scoffed. "Well, you're practically blind, so there's no use arguing about that,"_

_"They're not blind, just fractured is all..."_

_"Whatever. The thing is, Paula's gone and now we need to find a replacement, and fast. And you're gonna design the wanted poster," Murdoc took out a white piece of poster paper and a handful of multicolored markers from his music bag and set them on the table in front of them. "I would do it myself, but unfortunately, my penmanship skills are...lacking. You shouldn't have much problem making this, right?"_

_2D suddenly stood up from his chair. "Why should I? You're the reason why we have no guitarist, so you should be the one making the stupid poster!"_

_"And you were the one who brought in that rubbish bimbo and wasted our time!" Murdoc snapped._

_"Paula's not a bimbo!" 2D yelled. "This mess is all your fault, you...you NOB!"_

_As soon as those words were spoken, 2D covered his mouth with his hands in horror. Murdoc took a step towards the singer, who inched backwards and stumbled on a folding chair. 2D froze._

_"I-I didn't mean it, Murdoc, I promise," 2D stammered. "I'm so sorry, I just don't know what-"_

_Murdoc's hand came flying towards the singer's face, and the slap was so loud, it echoed across the entire room. 2D doubled over onto the floor, crying out in pain and clutching his red-hot cheek where the hand had struck him._

_"Get up," Murdoc said after a minute had passed. "You're lucky I didn't break your nose, like that lug Russel just did,"_

_2D did as he was told. Whimpering like a dog, he stood up and wiped a stream of tears away from his face._

_"Listen to me, face ache, because I'm only gonna say this once," Murdoc snapped. He firmly gripped 2D by his shirt collar and slightly lowered him onto the ground so that Murdoc could be the taller of the two. "Do you want to go back to working in that miserable organ emporium? Because if you do, I'd give you the boot the first chance I got. But let me tell you this: You are my frontman, and do you know why that is?"_

_2D shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't, Murdoc,"_

_"...Because even though you're a sniveling, thick-headed, little son of a bitch, you have the voice of an angle and looks that are driven to kill. If you hadn't come along, I would be the singer, but thanks to you, I already got my work cut out for me,"_

_"You better be careful, Stuart Pot," Murdoc continued. He let go of the shirt collar and jabbed 2D in the chest with one of his bony fingers. "Because when I make this band the greatest thing the world has ever seen, you'll wish that it were you that everyone will be on their hands and knees for. That is a promise I intend to keep. This is_ my _band, and you will do_ exactly _as I say. Is that clear?"_

_"Y-yes, Murdoc,"_

_"Make the poster look somewhat decent. Hang it up in the Soho area,"_

_"I'm on it," 2D hoisted himself from the ground, brushed the dirt off his pants and sat in the chair. He pulled the blank poster towards him and scrambled through a pile of multicolored permanent markers._

_"Well, looks like you got this under control," Murdoc said. "I've got a big goose egg to deal with, and his name is Russel Hobbs. And I want that poster done by the time I get back, got it?"_

_"Okay," 2D replied._

_Murdoc rolled his eyes and began to walk out the door. 2D sat, staring at the blank poster and colored markers. He began to write something, when suddenly, Murdoc banged on the door again. "Dents! Make sure you write 'No Hippies' on there!"_


	8. Chapter Seven

The days that followed the accident turned into weeks as winter was taking its toll; Late autumn gave away to more snowfalls as every passing day became shorter and nights became longer. When the outside world grew cold and bitter with wind and snow, so did the inside of the flat: because it was built poorly, the heat and thin walls hardly stood a chance against the harsh weather that brewed right through the windows and walls.

Noodle was still taken by her compulsive cleaning, and it had gotten much worse as time passed. To keep herself warm, she cleaned the oven almost every day just to feel the heat radiate out from it. Russel still worked at the pub, which was now a place of refuge for him because it was much more warm and had a better atmosphere than where he lived. He frequently asked his boss to work overtime not only to get more hours, but to keep himself away from the flat as much as possible. When Russel had days off, he slowly became easily irritated and began to skip meals because he slept so much.

Murdoc, on the other hand, continued his cycle of drinking and basking himself in the dark shelter of 2D's room; While Noodle and Russel were going about their business, he kept himself wrapped in all the blankets he could find to keep out the rigid drafts that wafted throughout the entire flat. Murdoc had spent countless hours scavenging through 2D's personal belongings, even after they were organized. He sorted through his shirts, shoes, books, vinyls and other knick knacks that were stored away in boxes.

But among the things that Murdoc scavenged the most in 2D's bedroom was the big box of unfinished songs. Every day, he traced his fingers along the ink markings that were scribbled onto the sheets, most of which was unreadable. Page after page, word after word, Murdoc took a swig of beer until the bottle ran dry. When it ran out, he simply opened another one and let himself become numb all over again.

Inhale. Exhale. Indulge.

After he was done scourging through the papers, Murdoc put them back in the box and under the bed where he found them. But when he was pushing the box, it was blocked by something behind it. He pulled out the object from further under the bed, and found two objects covered in dust. Murdoc brushed it away, and discovered that it was 2D's journal. The first page he flipped open to was simply dated 'December.' Murdoc read on; 'It smells really bad out here. Murdoc says that the studio was built a really long time ago and is haunted or somethin. We were the only ones who wanted to buy it off the market. I kind of miss home, though. But I like it because Crawley was kinda boring anyway. We haven't really started making music yet, because we need a guitarist. Murdoc plays bass, Russel plays drums and I play pianos so we've been setting out posters all over Essex-'

Murdoc skipped ahead a couple pages. 'My heads been hurting a lot more than usual lately. I think it's the migraines again. We've been rehearsing a lot and we play a lot of noisy stuff so it's kinda hard to hear what everyone's sayin' after-'

Skip ahead, skip ahead.

Murdoc continued to flip through the full journal until he found something that caught his eye. 'Murdoc took me for a ride in his Winnebago today. Usually he doesn't let anyone in it, especially because he thinks we'll mess up his stuff or something. I'm still kinda mad at him, but we have a new guitarist now so I guess we're pretty happy about that. I've never been in there before until today, and there were just a bunch of bottles and cigarettes everywhere. Murdoc told me to get in and not touch anything. Then he started the ignition and drove off. Russel and Noodle were still at the studio so they knew we'd be gone...'

~~~

_"The bloody hell is this garbage?"_

_"You never heard of The Sex Pistols, Murdoc? They're my favorite band. Besides The Clash, of course,"_

_"Sounds like rubbish to me,"_

_2D sat beside Murdoc in the passenger seat, watching the passing countryside out his window. It was a Sunday afternoon, and even though it was summer, 2D had still managed to catch a small cold. He coughed into his sleeve, phlegm catching in his throat and nose._

_"Do ya have a tissue, Murdoc?" 2D asked meekly._

_"Oh, don't tell me you got your snot all over the seat," Murdoc complained._

_"No, no. Just a little stuffy is all,"_

_"There's paper in the toilet. Unless you'd rather have an embroidered handkerchief,"_

_2D sensed the sarcasm in Murdoc's tone. Right when he was about to interject, he lurched in his seat as the Winnebago made a sharp turn to the right. 2D's head slammed on the window and then on the back of the seat when Murdoc slammed on the brakes._

_"Oi, what the bloody hell was that?!" 2D exclaimed. He sat up in his seat like a scared puppy._

_Murdoc rolled his eyes. "We're at the gas station, you sodding moron,"_

_2D's arms fell away from his face as Murdoc stopped the engine and took out the keys. "Oh. I knew that,"_

_"Just get out of the van," 2D opened his door and walked around the Winnebago where Murdoc was putting the gas pump in the socket. "I need to use the toilet," he said. "And I'd rather not use yours,"_

_Murdoc took a wad of cash from his pocket and shoved it at 2D's chest. "After you're done with your shit, go pay for my gas, and then buy two packs of cigs and some grub," 2D blinked._

_"Oh...well, okay,"_

_"And make it snappy,"_

_2D went inside the store, leaving Murdoc alone at the pump. He stood waiting for the tank to become full, watching 2D hold the door open for an older couple. The singer smiled and said something to them, followed by a chorus of laughter. Murdoc felt a small wave of heat rising up in his chest when he heard 2D's laugh. It was childish, lighthearted and fragmented like his accent, yet it almost had a tint of despondence within._

_Murdoc watched as 2D entered the store, his serpent tongue drifting into his upper lip. What he would give to make 2D laugh at his wit and charm, or even scream or cry. There was something in his voice that-_

_Click. The pump stopped. After Murdoc put it back in its pedestal, he sat in the Winnebago waiting for 2D. The laughter played in his mind over and over. How is it that 2D is so lanky and dull, yet he's more appealing? Girls adore him, kids look up to him, and older adults always respect him. Murdoc gripped the seat, trying to shake the thoughts out._

_He glanced over at the store window, looking to see if 2D was there. He forced himself to look away, but looked back ten seconds later. He turned away. He looked back._

_And there he was._

_Murdoc shifted in his seat eagerly. 2D opened the door to the Winnebago and threw the plastic bag down Murdoc's lap. "Got the cigs, just like you said. And I wasn't sure if you liked pasties or hamburgers so I got both,"_

_Murdoc pulled the cigarettes and a burger from the bag. His eyebrows were raised in astonishment. "Hm. Thanks faceache,"_

_Murdoc started the Winnebago and took out a single cigarette from one of the boxes. He looked inside the bag again, digging out the other cigarette box and pasties and throwing them on the floor._

_"Whatcha looking for?" 2D asked._

_"The damn lighter. You forgot a lighter for the cigs," Murdoc said._

_"Oh, that's okay! I got one right here, see?" 2D took out a single metal lighter from his pocket and smiled with content._

_"Well, looks like you're more useful than I thought," Murdoc said. "Light me. I'm going on the freeway,"_

_2D nodded and flicked the lighter until a single flame shot out of it. He put the flame to the tip of Murdoc's cigarette, concentrating on not letting it slip from his hands. Murdoc inhaled once the cigarette was ignited, and exhaled deeply._

_"So, where were we going, exactly?" 2D asked after a moment of silence between them._

_"Nowhere in particular. I just needed to get away from the studio is all. Too much ruckus,"_

_"But...we haven't practiced all week; Russel's still mixing the tracks,"_

_"Well, in case you haven't noticed, there's also zombies and a giant landfill we have to smell every day, so unless you have a better excuse, then just don't say anything,"_

_2D frowned. "I didn't say anything about the zombies. I was just curious,"_

_There was another silence. 2D lit his own cigarette, inhaling and exhaling the smoke in sync with Murdoc. Smoke started to fill the Winnebago, making 2D go into a huge coughing fit._

_"What in the hell are you doin' smoking if you have a cold?" Murdoc snapped. He opened his window to let the smoke out._

_"I dunno," 2D hacked. "I thought it would help clear my sinuses since-"_

_"Smoke does not clear colds, you dick. Open your window. If you think you're gonna be coughing your guts out the entire way back, you've got another thing comin',"_

_As he continued to cough, 2D opened his window and gasped for fresh air. Murdoc turned on the radio again and blasted the music to tune out 2D's endless hacking. This went on for another twenty minutes until Murdoc was about to reach his breaking point._

_"For sweet Satan, are you done yet?" Murdoc whined._

_2D breathed heavily, sticking his head out the window. His chest heaved with every single gulp of air he took. "I think so," he rasped._

_Murdoc nodded. "Thank God. You're so miserable, you know that?"_

_"Yep," 2D replied. "Where are we anyways?"_

_"South of Essex. If you really wanted to go back to Kong, I can take you there if you want,"_

_"No, I wanna keep driving: With you, I mean. This is fun. I never get out much,"_

_Murdoc felt a small smile form in his lips."Really?"_

_"Yeah, mate. It's like we're those hippies who live on the road and travel everywhere. I wanna do that someday, Murdoc,"_

_"Be a hippie?"_

_"No: travel with you,"_

_Murdoc's chest dropped in his stomach. His heart began to pound against his ribs._

_Keep it together, he thought._

_"This Winnie is real nice. We could all go on tour in this when we're a big band like you always say we're gonna be," 2D continued. "I kinda like the idea of sleeping in truck stops and motels. It's always somethin' new, ya know?"_

_Murdoc nodded. His mind drifted to sleeping with 2D in a dumpy motel._

_"Can we just keep driving? For an hour or two?" 2D asked. "I promise not to cough anymore,"_

_Murdoc glanced at the singer. "Sure, whatever,"_


	9. Chapter Eight

'Oct. 31, 2006.' Today's Noodles 16th birthday, but she isn't here. Ever since she went missing, we still haven't found her. Russel's really torn up about it because he was planning on buying her a new car after she got her license. But when Murdoc and I woke up this morning, he was in the kitchen covered in flour and frosting and stuff. Murdoc asked what the hell he was doing, and Russel said it was a 'surprise.' An hour later, there was this huge cake that read 'Happy Birthday, Noodle' and had sixteen candles on it. Russel told us that it was still a special day and that we should celebrate for her. We sang the birthday song and ate the cake for breakfast. At least Murdoc and I did. Russel couldn't stop crying and talking about how much he missed Noodle because she was like a daughter to him and she was here with us for a really long time. It just seems like everything's going down the toilet since Noodle went missing, and now the taxes on the studio have gone up. Murdoc says that if he can't pay for this place, we might have to-'

"Yo, Muds! You up here?"

It was Russel. Murdoc shut the journal, shoved it under the sheets and picked up one of 2D's vinyl albums. He pretended to examine it as the drummer walked into the room.

"I expected you'd be in here," Russel said.

"You're home awfully early," Murdoc replied.

"Um...It's twelve thirty," Russel picked up a couple of 2D's shirts that were lying on the floor. "What are you doin' up here by yourself anyway? It's freezing,"

"Noodle's up here too," Murdoc said. "Obviously you would know that,"

Russel crossed his arms tightly to conserve body heat. "That's not what I meant, Murdoc. What I'm saying is that keeping yourself locked in here isn't gonna do any good,"

"Want a beer mate? It's still cold,"

Russel frowned again when Murdoc held up another unopened bottle of beer. The drummer shook his head. "Do you really think I'm in the mood for alcohol when I've spent the past eight hours in a bar? Some bastard asked me for 8 fuckin' shots of whiskey and I nearly had to call an ambulance because he got so intoxicated. If he died, I would've lost my job right on the spot,"

Murdoc polished off the beer and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Everything's always about you, isn't it? Work, work, work, money, money, money, that's all you ever talk about-"

"Yeah, because now that nobody's also workin' at the paper mill, our income is half of what is used to be. Noodle just told me that she has an interview to replace him tomorrow. I'm just praying that she gets the job,"

Murdoc scoffed. "2D made twice as much dough compared to you. According to his will, of course,"

Russel glared at the older man. "What will?"

"2D's, you moron," Murdoc huffed. "His father told me personally, that his entire income covered all of the damages from the accident. Also, he said there was enough left over for us to have £1800,"

"That's impossible-"

"£1800 _each_ ,"

Russel looked suspiciously at Murdoc, who sat on 2D's bed, beaming with pride. "That's bullshit," Russel said. David Pot would never trust us with his son's will," Russel paused. "If anything, he would've told me about it because I was the one who handled all of his finances,"

"Because you're just the oh-so-special guy who butters up to everyone to get what he wants!" Murdoc stood up again and pointed his bony finger at the drummer. "Something's going on here, Russel; are you pretending to work for your money just to cover up what you took from him?"

Russel gaped. "Are you accusing me of stealing from 2D?!" he exclaimed. "Now see here, you creep, the only reason I've been working double time is to make more income for us. I would never, and I mean _never_ steal from him. And even what you said about the will or whatever is true, I still won't take any of his money,"

"Work yourself to the bone until you die, if that's how you like it,"

Now Russel was starting to fume, but not enough to lose his temper. "Why the hell am I even talking to you? You don't even know what you're talking about,"

"Well, if you weren't home so late, maybe you shouldn't even bothered," Murdoc growled. He went back to looking at the vinyl, feeling Russel's eyes burning into the side of his head.

"I was leaving anyway!" Russel snapped.

"Then go!"

Russel shot Murdoc another glare and stomped out of the room in a huff. Murdoc looked at the unopened beer bottle that was still in his hand. He shrugged, cracked it open and poured the golden liquid down his throat. "Stupid jackass," he muttered between every sip.

The beer was drained until the container was completely empty. A numb sensation traveled from his head all the way down to the bottom of his feet. Murdoc could feel himself pulsating and his vision go blurry. And within a matter of seconds, he was out cold.

~~~

_A burning building. Hundreds of crows cawing and flying aimlessly in all directions. Dark smoke. Dark clouds. Strong winds. A man holding a tub of kerosene._

_Kong was on fire._

_Murdoc stood from a distance, gazing at the brilliant studio he had set ablaze. It was now a beacon of flame and ashes, burning like a dying sun. He was covered in soot. There was a crash, and Murdoc was now inside a car. Another man went flying from the back of the windshield and hurled face first into an open coffin. Murdoc jumped out of the car through the broken windshield, scraping his arms and legs on the glass. Blood ran down his body as he ran towards the coffin, which drifted further away from him with every step he took._

_The face of his father appeared. "You done fucked up this time, boy,"_

_His visage turned into the face of 2D. It was pitch black around them. There was a pane of thin glass separating them. 2D opened his mouth, but did not speak. It was as if his vocal chords were trapped inside his throat, trying to escape. Murdoc found that he could not speak either. He banged on the glass, mouth-screaming 2D's name with all his effort. His pounding fist shook the barrier, his lips forming the words; "2D, 2D, can you hear me?" between every blow. 2D continued to speak, but was completely inaudible._

_Water began to fill Murdoc's side of the glass. It rose up his legs, his chest and his shoulders until he found himself completely surrounded by the fluid. Murdoc tried to scream again, but the water filled his mouth and throat. He was sinking. Murdoc submerged in the darkness, screaming out 2D's name until everything went black._

~~~

Murdoc gasped and body flung off the bed. He sat upward, breathing heavily and clutched a hand to his rapid-beating heart. He looked around; there was no burning building, no coffin, no glass, no black hole. And no 2D.

Murdoc laid back down. The room began to spin. He smothered his head with one of the pillows, tossing and turning relentlessly. He did not sleep for the rest of that night.  


	10. Chapter Nine

Murdoc sat at the kitchen table staring down at his bowl of oatmeal. His vision was less distorted compared to the night before, but his head and stomach were still stirring and showed no sign of stopping. The images from his dream continued to play in his head. The car. The glass. The void. His father. His singer.  
The face, his figure, his eyes that were always full of fear...it all seemed too real.  
Russel was also in the kitchen on the phone with David Pot. Murdoc scowled, cringing at how kind and polite Russel made himself sound when he talked and laughed with older adults. Murdoc knew that the second Russel would hang up, he would go back to being a cross and stubborn mule.  
Murdoc caught on the last bit of Russel's conversation: "Yes, that would be just fine...What time? Yes, that sounds good. I'll let him know. Goodby," Russel hung up his cell phone and stuck it back in his pocket. He turned to the table and leaned on the chair next to Murdoc's. "That was David. He wants us all to come for a visit today. And I'm not gonna make you because you're hungover or whatever, but I figured we went and visit 2D's grave while we're there." Murdoc lifted his head at the bare mention of 2D's name. He did it with a straight face to contain his anxiousness. "What makes you think I'm hungover?" he said with a gravely voice.  
Russel curled his lip. "Well, considering how much beer you drank last night, and the way you're slurring, I thought it was obvious,"  
"Shut up," Murdoc said. "Of course I'm coming with,"  
"Are you sure?" Russel asked. "Because I'm not forcing you to-"  
Murdoc suddenly stood up from the chair, but lost complete control of his balance, causing him to support all of his weight on one arm. "I'm coming with you and that's final, Russ,"  
Russel stepped back from the chair, staring straight at Murdoc's face. His mangled, greasy hair covered most of the features, but he could still see right through his dilating pupils and the sweat that beaded his forehead. Russel knew that something was off with Murdoc, but he couldn't figure out exactly what it was.  
"Um...I guess I'll go start the car then,"  
~~~  
David and Rachel Pot resided in a very cozy home in the west area of Hertfordshire where they had been living ever since 2D was born. Granted that it was compact and old-fashioned, the Pot couple had always lived comfortably there, even as they were growing older in age. The walls were made of redwood and light blue wallpaper. A white shag carpet lined a majority of the floors, while the bare hardwood creaked in different places. A giant wooden cuckoo clock hung in the sitting room above an old piano. Dozens and dozens of portraits, all of 2D and his parents, were lined up in every hallway.  
Murdoc spent most of the visit looking at all of 2D's portraits in the house several times, in awe of discovering what he looked like as a baby, a child and as a teenager. In the older portraits, 2D had his dark brown hair both of his eyes, which were sparkly and blue like sapphires. Murdoc reminded himself of the dream; 2D's black hole eyes begging for mercy. The glass. The water. His mind snapped back to the sound of a tea kettle shrieking from the kitchen downstairs.  
"Oh, tea's ready. I'll be back in a jiff, dearie," Rachel said. Murdoc walked down the stairs as Rachel Pot left the sitting room and headed towards the kitchen. Russel and David Pot sat in two different chairs across from each other while they continued to converse.  
"...We've been getting along quite well, actually," David said. "Other relatives have been stopping by every now and then, which Rachel and I have been very grateful of. But if you don't mind me asking, Russel, how does it feel without him? I mean, he used to go on for days about his band like it was a family or something like that,'" David said.  
Russel chuckled. "Well, yeah, we were kind of a family. At least that's how it was when we started. But we broke up a lot, went our own separate ways at times...When we finally came back together as a whole, I thought we would start makin' music again, but it never happened. When I got the call, it felt like I lost a part of myself. He was like my brother. He always made sure we were getting along, no matter how different we were from each other,"  
"And right you are. You're a good man, Russel. Stu admired you very much. He told me that another good friend of yours passed away as well?"  
"Drive-by. Happened little over a decade ago. Del, he was shot right in front me and died in my arms; I'll never forget it,"  
David nodded. "You've been through alot in your life, haven't you, young man?"  
"Yes, sir. I think we all have,"  
Rachel came in the sitting room with a pitcher of tea, 4 tea cups and a bowl of sugar. "Sugar for your tea, love?"  
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," Russel said.  
Rachel put a lump of sugar in his cup and took a seat next to her husband. Even at her old age, she and David looked surprisingly younger together. She noticed Murdoc standing a fair distance away from the chairs.  
"Oh, sit down, won't you, Murdoc? I made some for you," Rachel said sweetly.  
"I'll hold on the tea, thank you," Murdoc said. He took a seat beside Russel, who sipped from the cup with his pinky in the air. Murdoc rolled his eyes.  
"So, Murdoc, long time no see, eh?" David said. "You haven't aged a day. Not since the funeral of course,"  
Murdoc forced a smile. "Being immortal has its perks,"  
David chuckled. "Er-I'm sure it does," There was an awkward silence. David cleared his throat. "Anyhow, Russel, where's that lovely young lady that was with you at the funeral? I can't quite remember her name, and it's been bothering me all day,"  
"Oh, you mean Noodle?" Russel interjected. "Yes, she couldn't come with us today. She's working at the paper mill in your son's place,"  
Rachel's eyes lit up. "Is that so? Oh, that's wonderful. Isn't it, David?"  
"Yes, it is. I've heard the pay is excellent, considering how much his grandfather made when he worked there as a sales manager,"  
Russel set his tea down on the wooden coffee table next to a copy of Moby Dick. "It sure beats working at a pub. That's where I've been this year, and 2D-sorry, Stu, always had a higher pay stub. Maybe that's why he decided to have a will,"  
Murdoc's throat went dry.  
"What will?" David asked.  
"Well, you see, Murdoc told me that you promised us Stu's will and testimony. It was enough for us to keep some of his income," Russel said.  
"Our son never had a will," Rachel said sternly. "His income went directly to his insurances and hospital bills,"  
Russel blinked. "Oh...There must've just been a miscommunication. I'm very sorry-"  
"BUT At least we know that his money was used for good intentions. Right, Russel?" Murdoc interrupted.  
David and Rachel looked at each other, then at Murdoc, who patted Russel on the shoulder.  
"What are you doing?" Russel hissed under his breath.  
Murdoc ignored him. But he saw the suspicious looks on the Pot's faces, he began to tug at his collar.  
"When was it that I told you about any will?" David asked Murdoc. "I would've remembered it quite clearly,"  
"You, sir, told me that if anything were to happen to your son, then it was me who would be held accountable for the expenses. Therefore, it should be me who has the right to determine where the money should go," Murdoc argued.  
David's eyebrows furrowed. He frowned at the haughty expression Murdoc plastered on his face. "I beg your pardon, but I have no idea what you're talking about, Murdoc,"  
Murdoc paused for a moment. "Do you recall the emporium, Mr. Pot? When I took care of your son and paid his hospital bills?"  
"Murdoc-" Russel said.  
"Not now, Russ," Murdoc urged. "It's clear that I should take full responsibility for the finances; Wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Pot?"  
Rachel's mouth dropped open. "You're a liar! This has nothing to do with you! Why, if it weren't for your tomfoolery, our boy would still have a chance of living!"  
"Rachel, darling-" David intervened.  
"And you should know exactly what he's talking about, David! The coma? All the hospital bills needed to keep Stu alive? That was all him! We were nearly broke! He made Stu more vulnerable than he already was!"  
David put his hands on Rachel's shoulders, trying to keep her down. "We can't jump to conclusions-" Rachel pushed them away and stood up. The coffee table shook from her sudden movement.  
"I'm not just going to sit here and let this blow over again!"  
The cuckoo clock began to strike noon, starting at one.  
"Mrs. Pot, if I could explain-" Murdoc started.  
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!  
"Murdoc, stop it, you're only making things worse," Russel interjected.  
Cuckoo!  
Now Rachel was fuming. She pointed a shaky finger at the bassist. "Why was it that he agreed to stay with you for all these years, Mr. Niccals? Of all people, my only son was a victim in some...bloody band with the culprit that you are!"  
Cuckoo!  
"I'm the culprit?! I practically raised him!"  
Cuckoo!  
"You? Raise up my boy?"  
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!  
"He was in my band!"  
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!  
"Scoundrel!"  
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!  
"He agreed to be my singer!"  
Cuckoo!  
Rachel threw her tea cup on the table, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.  
"YOU KILLED MY SON!"  
The room fell silent. Rachel kept her finger pointed at Murdoc, while David and Russel were standing frozen in complete shock. Rachel shook, fell to the ground and burst into tears.  
"My baby!" She wailed as locks of gray hair fell onto her face. David took her into his arms, leading her away from the shards of the broken tea cup.  
"Get out of my house. Both of you," David scolded.  
Russel flushed. "David, Rachel, please, he doesn't know what he's-"  
"I said get out!"  
Murdoc was still seething, but Russel grabbed him by the arm forcefully tugged his sleeve. They led themselves out the front door with a slam behind them, muffling out Rachel's mournful sobbing.  
~~~  
"You're a real jackass. You know that, don't you?"  
Murdoc angrily took a drag from his second cigarette. "I beg to differ,"  
Russel's grip on the wheel grew tighter with every word that came out of Murdoc's mouth. " They're 2D's parents, Murdoc! Of course they wouldn't give his money to you! What were you thinking?!"  
Murdoc didn't respond, of course. He took in the sweet aroma of smoke that filled his lungs as if it was air.  
Inhale. Exhale. Indulge.  
"I should've known not to bring you with. I cared about his parents. I really did, Muds,"  
Murdoc straightened himself in the seat. "Then why don't you go apologize to them?"  
Russel slammed on the brakes, lurching them forward. "Because they think I'm on your side, that's why!"  
Russel wearily took a deep breath, despite the cigarette smoke around him. His lungs were accustomed to the pollution of thousands of cigarettes that customers would being into the pub every night. He turned his car into the cemetery gates. He turned on the defroster to clear away the foggy moisture on the windshield. The two of them sat in the parked car shrouded by silence.  
It was Russel who originally purchased the lightly used vehicle, so he decided to claim it as his own while 'co-owning' it with Murdoc and Noodle. He kept a small stash of CDs and cassette tapes that overflowed in his glove compartment, and the rest of his collection remained scattered along the floor of the car. A heap of takeout boxes, fast food bags, stale fries, soda cups, cigarette stubs, and loose change remained strewn in the car's backseat. Russel's shirts, socks, and hats were piled up by the back window.  
After several minutes, Murdoc stepped out of the car and began to walk through the snow-covered burial ground. Russel groaned and followed, locking the car behind him.  
When they finally reached the bare tree above 2D's headstone, Murdoc foot slipped on a circular object under the snow. He reached to the ground, and picked up a single rotting apple. In fact, there were dozens of apples lying around where people could step or trip on them. Murdoc picked them up tossed their remains against the trunk of the tree.

No words were spoken. The only sound between Russel and Murdoc was the patter of snowflakes falling on their jackets.


	11. Chapter Ten

November came and gone, thus came the arrival of December. As more snow and smog blanketed the inner reaches of Wibbly Wobbly Street, those in preparation for Christmas set up lights on their porches, window sills, and front lawns. Soon the entire road was illuminated beginning to end by bright, brilliant bulbs to keep away the toxicity of the paper mill's fumes.

That is, except for one building in particular whose house lights were hardly ever on, and only came from the top floor.

As it was on a daily basis, Murdoc locked himself inside 2D's room, illuminated by the dim light of his bedside lamp. Russel and Noodle spent a majority of their weeks at work, so Murdoc often had the flat to himself. Tonight was one of those nights. 2D's box of unfinished songs was fished out from under the bed. Murdoc had already spent endless hours memorizing every detail of the papers; their texture, their sizes, color, if it was a sticky note covered in scribbles or notebook paper with a long list, and if they were penciled or inked. But the most important detail was the words written on them. Some of the lyrics 2D wrote were bleak and melancholy, while others were happy with utter nonsense.

Among the vivid colors and black splotches, Murdoc's favorite was the white sheet of loose leaf that read; _"I miss you guys."_ He read the words over and over in his head, placing it in front of all the others when he put them back in the shoebox and under the bed. Murdoc sat cross-legged on the floor, gazing at the pattern of pages he laid out nearly every day. They reached from one side of the bed to the other, in rows of five. Sometimes they were alphabetical, color coordinated, from largest to smallest, or corresponded to the dates in the top right corner. But he always kept the white one in his lap, separate from the collection.

The bassist took a swig from his third beer can. He belched, loud enough to lightly shake the window. then burst into a fit of laughter. "Howdya like that, face ache?" he exclaimed, as if he did not know that he was the only one in the room.

Murdoc sat still for a while, until his shoulders relaxed with another sip. "I bet you'd rate that a solid 7, mate," He picked up the paper in his lap again, tracing his fingers along the pen marks.

None of the markings seemed to be inscribed within the lines, but were instead scattered in random places with traces of bullet points for notes. Not a single phrase was organized, and several words were scratched out, replaced, then scratched out again. There were question marks dotted by every other word.

"How will we know? When the morning comes..." Murdoc uttered while tracing along the chorus line. "We are still human...How will we know? How will we dream..."

Murdoc's other hand crumpled the bottom of the paper, his grip tightening with every word that came out of his lips. He stopped. His hand had torn the paper, and there was a large rip running up the center.

Murdoc's heart dropped in his stomach, as if someone had replaced it with a giant stone. He gripped the ripped paper in his hand as he scrambled to 2D's desk drawer. Noodle had already organized it before, so the only items left in there were a tape dispenser and a stack of poker cards. Murdoc seized the tape, cut out a long piece and gently placed it along the tear. He sighed with utter relief and lowered back onto the floor.

"Sorry bout that, Dents," Murdoc said faintly. He paused, looking down at the paper in his hands. Murdoc stood, wobbling from the beginning stages of his drunken state.

"How much time can one spend, all by themselves, just wasting away at what is supposed to be a sentimental time?" Murdoc paced around the bedroom as he said this, then opened the bedroom door into the hallway. "It's horseshit!" he exclaimed as he walked down the stairs.

He waved the paper around like it was a flag. "They seem like they're doing good, but then they complain on how much they spend on useless, shitty knick-knacks for obscure relatives they only see on holiday!"

He entered the living room, which had turned into a heap of partially wrapped Christmas presents, scissors and tape dispensers. Much to Murdoc's surprise, Russel's wrapping skills were impressive considering how little time he had to put into them. He lifted one of the gifts, which was a small box wrapped in green paper and addressed to a name he did not recognize.

"As if he needs to put in the time and money to buy a can opener only to realize that they already have one...And what about the price and quality of these jumpers? Does he really know what size they prefer, or if it's even the right color?...Yes, I'm getting ahead of myself, but why does it matter in the first place?"

Murdoc spotted a fresh roll of scarlet wrapping paper against the wall towering over a small mound of previously wrapped gifts. Taking a large, wobbly stride, he yanked the paper from the wall, knocking over the pile. Murdoc began to spin around, enfolding his body with the red paper as if it were a huge cloak.

"Why must they waste what they have on useless necessities when the only thing they can give is their dignity?!" Murdoc cried. He continued to spin around the room, letting the wrapping paper unwind itself until it came completely off its cylinder. "I have nothing to give! Let me do this for you!"

Murdoc bolted back up the stairs, the giant sea of paper following behind him. He burst into 2D's bedroom and opened the window. The sudden gust of winter wind and snow caused the bright colored squares to scatter across the floor. Murdoc crawled on his hands and knees, greedily chasing and grabbing at them when they came in his reach. He went to the window and began to rip them into little pieces. As he did this, he let the pieces fly out of the window and float in the air as if they were snowflakes. Murdoc continued the process, shakily tearing apart the songs one by one and releasing them into the bitter wind.

When he was finished, he watched as they drifted in all directions: up towards the sky, into the street and in the snow. Murdoc then lifted up the last one. He stared at it, his eyes burning into the writing that he had memorized forwards and backwards. Murdoc shivered from the draft that was hitting his exposed skin and making the paper shake in his grip.

It was pulling him to the window.

"No...don't be like that now," Murdoc said. "You need to stay here."

He closed the window, and the wind stopped. The paper hung limp in his hands, and his cloak fell to the floor. Murdoc clutched the artifact to his chest, staring out the window. The pieces were gone, and it was only snow once again.

Shivering, Murdoc tightened the wrapping paper around himself, as if he was putting on a straight jacket. He slowly trudged toward the bed, but did not notice the half empty beer can under him. Murdoc slipped over the can and landed back first on the floor with a thud. His arms and legs were trapped, so he could not break the fall. Murdoc cried out in pain, as he writhed and wrangled beneath the wrapping. With a burst of strength and anger, he broke free from his red cocoon with a huge rip.

Murdoc laid flat on the floor with his head pounding and the ceiling spinning above him. Murdoc tilted his head towards the unfinished beer can rolling away from him. He stretched his arm out, desperately trying to reach it, but the can made its escape from his fingertips and made a clinking sound on the wall. Murdoc felt his eyes roll in the back of his head until the world around him was black.

~~~

_A dark room. Illuminated by a single candle. It smelled of warm beer and cigarettes. There was rain outside, that gently pattered along a small, tinted window. There was a warm, pleasant sense of coziness that surrounded him with a feeling that he had been there before._

_Then he realized that he was in his Winnebago. And he was not alone._

_"Oi, Murdoc,"_

_"Face ache,"_

_"You missin' me yet?"_

_"A rather stupid question. But I suppose so,"_

_"I was hopin' you might say that,"_

_"Oh, quit your blabbering. It's all you ever do,"_

_"But you like it, of course. Who can blame me?"_

_"Just hurry up. I don't have much time,"_

_2D, who crawled onto the small bed, gazed up at Murdoc with a pair of shiny, blue eyes. They were about the same shade as his brilliant hair, and like all persons with blue eyes, Murdoc was hypnotized by them. The bassist spread his legs open, welcoming 2D with a wide smile and drug an anxious tongue along his teeth._

_"Now just try to relax, Murdoc,"_

_"I am relaxed, you idiot! Just come closer already!"_

_2D's gangly body crawled over the top of Murdoc's legs and torso until their faces were inches apart. Murdoc felt his heart grow weak. Their lips pressed, sending the first wave of adrenaline through the bassist. He choked back a groan, letting 2D's hands feel up and down his bare torso. He was starving, and 2D was the fresh meat he was craving._

_Their kisses turned into frenching, a technique that Murdoc had mastered from experience. 2D let Murdoc's tongue explore the far reaches of his mouth. He pulled 2D closer to him. They needed more._

_It switched instantly. 2D had his mouth on Murdoc's pulsating nob, his tongue and lips dragging along the rough surface. Murdoc gritted his teeth as he rubbed 2D, then let out a loud, satisfying moan that shook the room._

_"F-fuck, 2D!"_

_Sweat dropped from Murdoc's forehead, underneath his dark, greasy mane. 2D showed no sign of stopping as his moans continued to grow louder and longer in length. The singer left a trail of kisses along Murdoc's stomach as he made his way up to his neck. The bassist finally came, letting out his last moan._

_"You done?" 2D asked._

_"Oh-ohh..yes. I'm finished," Murdoc replied. "Come here, Dents,"_

_2D laid his head on top of Murdoc's chest, feeling the instant warmth of them pressed together. Murdoc ran his fingers through his hair, whispering into his head._

_"2D. 2D...I love you, I love you..." Murdoc rasped._

_"Oh, Murdoc," 2D kissed him on the cheek. Murdoc gasped in horror as he saw that his eyes were now entirely black and fractured as they were before._

_2D smiled. "I miss you so much,"_

~~~

"Muds! Muds, wake up, come on,"

Murdoc awoke. He saw giant shadow looming over his head, and felt like he was being shaken. When his vision cleared up, Murdoc found that he was being shaken, and the shadow was only Russel.

"Oh, thank God. I thought you'd had a heart attack," Russel said. "I've been trying to get you up for 5 minutes, man,"

Murdoc tried to sit up, but a sudden jolt of pain surged through his lower back. He stopped, holding back another cry of pain. How long had he been asleep on the floor?

Russel sighed and pulled up the other man like he was plucking out a weed. "Um, Muds,"

Murdoc wearily sat on the bedside. "Yeah, what is it, Russ?" he slurred. "Why is my wrapping paper on the floor and on your ass?"

Murdoc stopped, confused, until he realized a large section of the red paper was still stuck to his clothes. He peeled it off and tossed the remains aside. Russel made a low growl and tapped his foot.

"I was planning on using that for the rest of my gifts, but I guess there's no point now," he said bitterly. "...Jesus, it's getting more cold in here every day. No wonder you're covered in goosebumps. And you're shaking too,"

Murdoc ignored the drummer's rambling and crawled into the luxurious comfort of the bed sheets. His head continued to pound and ache under the bright light. Russel rolled his eyes and turned off the switch.

"I'd better see you sober by tomorrow morning, you hear? I don't want another drop of alcohol in this flat if this keeps up," Russel snapped.

He left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Murdoc felt himself sink deeper into the mattress, but his heart rate kept going up. There was no candle. No Winnie. No rain. And no 2D.

Nothing was real.


	12. Chapter Eleven

A Monday night at the bar was always more dead than week old roadkill: Russel still couldn't decide if his surroundings were real or if he was still having a bad dream. He was certain that he would wake up in his bed at an unexpected time due to insomnia, but no matter how hard he pinched himself, it was no use.  
On the brighter side of things, Russel had worked so many hours in the last two months, he was promoted to the position of being a bar manager. This was good in terms of higher wages, but this meant the responsibility of working full time, even with the holiday season approaching.  
Gregg, one of the bar's coworkers had noticed that something about him was off ever since 2D's accident. Usually he was in a fairly good mood at the bar. Often times Russel would be drumming on the counter to the music or chatting with the regular guests. These days, however, it was as if he was going through the motions, sometimes without saying a single word all night.  
Gregg and Russel had become good acquaintances because they were the only workers willing to take late night shifts.  
"Oi, Russel," Gregg said as he punched in his employee code into the register.  
Russel took about 5 seconds to respond. "Oh, Gregg. Didn't see you there," he mumbled. He turned quickly turned to wash the counter.  
Gregg frowned with concern. He could see that Russel's eyes were baggy and splotched with red, just how they were every night. He cleared his throat: "Er, the big man just told me he wanted to see you in his office after your shift,"  
Russel stopped. "What for? He's never said more than 10 words to me,"  
"I didn't ask. You know how unpredictable he is, though,"  
"I guess,"  
Gregg gave him a small punch on the shoulder. "Hey, earth to Russ!"  
"Gregg..."  
"I know tonight is slow and all, but I'm not gonna let you have this pity party. How about after our shift is over, we go to that club in Soho and-"  
"Thanks, but not tonight,"  
Gregg frowned. "Are you sure everything is okay?"  
"Yeah, yeah...I'm just really tired. Didn't get much sleep last night is all,"  
"Well, if you say so-" Gregg was cut off short by a loud door slam.  
Russel turned towards the entrance and was caught off guard by a very frazzled looking man with greasy hair and wearing nothing but a pair of slippers and a blue robe.  
"Hey, um, isn't that your bass player guy?" Gregg asked.  
"Yes," Russel groaned in utter frustration.  
Murdoc had completely forgotten that Russel was working that night, but he didn't have the brain power to have a second thought. His alcohol stash had run dry at the flat and so did his cigarettes.  
Murdoc ran up to the front counter and leaned towards Russel. "5 shots of your strongest whiskey. And make it fast,"  
Gregg shot a nervous glance at him then at Russel.  
"How in the hell did you get here?" Russel said through gritted teeth. "Where's Noodle?"  
Murdoc slammed 10 pounds on the table. "Took a cab. Noodle's still at the flat. I just need a few drinks,"  
Russel frowned and pushed back the coins. "I don't think so. You've done plenty of drinking lately. You must have a ton of nerve showing up here this late,"  
Murdoc scowled. "Just make me some drinks, and I won't ask for anything from you again,"  
Russel shot Murdoc a glare, then slammed his fist on the counter. "You think that alcohol is gonna solve our problems, Murdoc? You think this is some kind of joke so you have an excuse to waste our budget on booze? For Christ's sake, I had to replace a fresh roll of my wrapping paper because of you!"  
"Russel, lower your voice," Gregg said.  
Russel ignored him. "I'm giving you 10 seconds to walk out that door before I send the boss man up here,"  
Murdoc didn't hesitate to take advantage of the situation. He turned to the other man. "Oi, Greggory, I'll give you an extra tip if you make me those shots,"  
"Don't listen to him," Russel interjected. "He's delusional,"  
"Like hell I am! And who says I'm wasting our budget?"  
"I'm telling you now. 2D always pestered you about it-"  
"What does 2D have to do this?"  
"Because that's why you want to get drunk. You want to forget, but once you lose someone, you can't ever forget, no matter how hard you try-"  
"I'll do everything to forget 2D! You  
know what, make that 10 shots of whiskey!"  
"You mindless, self-centered son of a bitch," Russel growled. "He looked up to you, and this is how you want to repay him?"  
"2D is dead, so it doesn't matter anymore! And what about Del? He's gone, but does he matter, Russel?"  
Russel felt his body tense up. "Murdoc, stop it. Right now,"  
"I will when I get my shots, you fat oaf,"  
Something inside Murdoc snapped that had never been snapped before, and now he couldn't take control of himself. He bounded over the counter towards Russel, knocked him off his feet and into the glass mix bottles with a huge crash.  
"Russel!!" Gregg exclaimed.  
Several people sitting at the edge of the bar watched in horror as Murdoc and Russel brawled behind the counter. A woman screamed.  
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?!" Russel boomed.  
Murdoc replied by socking him in the stomach. Russel groaned, holding back a scream of pain in order not to cause a disturbance to the rest of the bar.  
But it was too late for that.  
"HOOOBBBS!!!"  
Murdoc, Russel and Gregg  
immediately froze. The boss and owner of the bar, a huge, ill-tempered man with a brown mustache stormed into the front counter to see his employees and Murdoc in the middle of their brawl. His face was entirely purple with rage.  
"WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!" the boss roared.  
Even for a rock-solid man like Russel, his boss was the only person that made him shudder all the way down to his bones. Murdoc peeled himself off of Russel and backed away.  
"Sir, I know this looks bad and all, but you see-" Murdoc started to say, but was immediately cut off by Russel.  
"Murdoc here, he's just being delusional from his alcohol withdrawal. He attacked me for no reason-"  
"So you know this man, Hobbs?"  
the boss said.  
"Yes, sir. He's my bandmate,"  
The boss raised an eyebrow. "Step aside," he moved closer to Murdoc, who he towered over like a skyscraper. "Listen here, you jackass. I don't care who you are. You're banned from my bar, whether you like it or not. Now get out before I call the police,"  
Murdoc was too intimidated to interject: giving Russel the death glare, he walked out of the bar and into the street.  
"And YOU!" the boss screamed at Russel. "Don't think that you're off the hook: I expected that you would've at least kept that crazy...whatever that man is under control. Now clean up this mess. And this is coming out of your paycheck tonight, is that clear?"  
Russel lowered his head. "Yes, sir,"  
~~~  
Russel started to leave the bar in Murdoc's Mustang at around midnight, but he was still in shock from the fight earlier. He also felt slightly deflated when he received his cut paycheck: It wasn't much, but he had to make the best out of it. If he lost his job, he wouldn't be able to pay for most of their already dwindling budget.  
Russel rubbed his tired eyes and made a right turn. Although it was usually still busy in this part of London, Russel enjoyed the late drive back to the flat because the roads were usually open. As he was scanning the buildings along the roadside, a certain figure lazily treading along the sidewalk caught his attention. Russel slowed down the car, and instantly recognized the figure walking alone in the darkness.  
Russel pulled over to the edge of the sidewalk and rolled the passenger window down. "Get in,"  
Murdoc looked at Russel for a second, then turned away and walked faster. Russel shook his head and sped up.  
"Murdoc, you can't walk all the way home from here,"  
"Sod off,"  
"You're only making this harder on yourself. Just get in the car,"  
"I'm not going anywhere with you,"  
"So you don't trust me, is that it?"  
"I don't trust anyone, Russ,"  
"And yet you still managed to bring  
us back together,"  
Murdoc stopped, along with the car. He and Russel looked at each other the way they did when Russel first joined the Gorillaz: Awkward, confused, skeptical, yet easily in awe of their differences.  
"L-Look, Muds. I miss him too. We all do. But we can't let our grief get in the way of our lives. I can't lose my job, Murdoc. We have to be strong for him,"  
With a defeated, yet sorrowful sigh, Murdoc nodded and opened the door and got into the passenger seat.  
Russel put the car back into drive. "Let's just get home. I've got more wrapping to do,”


	13. Chapter Twelve

"He did what?!"  
An early morning shock was not exactly appealing to Noodle's senses, but when she discovered the dark bruise on Russel's cheek and leg, she burst into total hysterics.  
"Noodle, everything's fine," Russel said covering his facial bruise. "He was just having one of his moods is all-"  
"Don't you understand how serious this is, Russel?" Noodle shrieked. "You could've had to go to the hospital, and with all the broken glass, and...what if you lost your job?! You know how your boss is!"  
"Yes, I know, Noodle. But this isn't about me; This is about Murdoc."  
Noodle let out an exhausted sigh and began to pull up her jet black hair into a ponytail. Russel always knew that meant she was keeping it out of her eyes so she could clean. Just like he predicted, Noodle took out their small vacuum from a closet and turned it on.  
Russel finished off the last of his coffee and cautiously approached her. "Noodle, I know you're tired from working, but this is more important right now."  
She nudged the drummer out of her way with the vacuum and continued to scan the floor for dirt.  
Russel furrowed his brow. "Noodle, this is serious, if you would please just-" he tried to yell over the whir of the vacuum, but Noodle was completely absorbed in her useless chore.  
"Noodle."  
No response.  
Russel stomped his foot and stormed over to the outlet where the vacuum was plugged in. He pulled the plug from the wall, making the whirring stop.  
"WILL YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE DAMN SECOND?!"  
Noodle saw the expression on Russel's face and she immediately came to her senses. With a heavy sigh and sweat beading her forehead, she leaned the vacuum against the wall and walked back towards the kitchen.  
"I've been worried about Murdoc too, Russel-sama," Noodle said. "He's been acting so strange. I mean, he's always been that way for as long as I can remember."  
"But back in the day he could act like he was the king of the world and still have control over himself. I've been trying to get some sense into Murdoc, I really have, but I just can't get a damn word out of him."  
Noodle walked Russel over to the table where they sat themselves down. She patted Russel's hand and held it firmly.  
"I mean, just the way he locks himself up there, and has these weird nightmares after drinking so much...And what happened with 2D's parents, and the wrapping paper...Please, can you just go talk to him? He'll listen to what you have to say instead of my useless blabbering."  
Noodle pondered the question for a moment. "That is, if he's sober enough."  
"I already established that. Murdoc's cold turkey from last night so he should be decent," Russel replied.  
Noodle let out another exhausted sigh. She gave Russel's hand another reassuring squeeze and started to push herself away from the table.  
"Wait, Noodle," Russel said.  
Noodle stopped at the edge of the stairs. "What is it?"  
"Make sure you knock first."  
~~~  
Murdoc's head was pounding so hard against the pillows, his entire body was obstructed from moving. He wasn't hungover, but this felt more severe. And his nose was very congested.  
He laid in the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't move or speak, as if he was paralyzed. Suddenly, Murdoc let out a huge sneeze that sent a good amount of snot flying through the room. He wiped his nose, breathing heavily through his mouth.  
Murdoc couldn't remember the last time he was sick with a cold this severe.  
Just as he was starting to lay back down with a pillow smothered in his head, there was a small knock on 2D's bedroom door.  
Murdoc growled and rolled himself out of the sheets. He opened the door, expecting to see Russel's disapproving stare beaming over him like a watchtower. But to his total surprise, it was Noodle.  
"Oi, Noodle-...Er, nice to see you, love," Murdoc said. It was as if he had not seen her for months, even though they were living under the same roof.  
"Hi, Murdoc." Noodle replied hastily. "Did you...sleep well?" Her eyes drifted towards a small line of dried blood on his neck.  
Murdoc immediately felt her looking at the mark, and rubbed it forcefully with his hand. "Yeah..yeah, come on in,"  
Noodle entered the bedroom, grimacing at the amount of beer cans, clothes and cigarettes left on the hardwood floor. She had worked day and night for a month to make the room clean and had completely forgotten that Murdoc was staying in it. She shivered slightly at the sub-zero temperature, forgetting how cold it was on the top floor.  
"Murdoc-sama, Russel told me about what happened last night," Noodle said after a moment of silence between them. "He's really concerned about you. We both are, actually,"  
"Is that so?" Murdoc replied. "I can't recall the last time he had any sympathy for anyone rather than himself."  
Noodle frowned. "You really hurt him. And I can tell he had to take action against you as well,"  
Murdoc let out a very rude, sarcastic laugh that made Noodle cringe. "Well, no shit! I'll tell you what, you may not remember much about him back in the day, but if it weren't for me, he would be much more dangerous than he already is,"  
"He raised me, Murdoc."  
"Then what do you want me for? I don't know if you've noticed, but if it weren't for last night, I wouldn't have this sodding cold,"  
Noodle nodded, acknowledging as he let out another huge sneeze.  
"Murdoc, do you know what day it is?"  
The bassist shook his head. "I can't say that I do. Every day is a holiday whenever this bloody month rolls around," Murdoc said.  
"It's Christmas Eve,"  
Murdoc's eyes widened. The news was a total shock to him, like a bullet to the chest. The accident. The funeral. It all happened nearly two months ago.  
"So it is," Murdoc replied.  
"You and Russel-sama may not be at good terms right now, but he still cares about you. Times have been hard for all of us since we lost 2D," Noodle said.  
Murdoc sat himself down on the bed, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. Noodle placed herself alongside him, letting the wind outside whistle through the walls.  
"I don't want us to be seperated again," Noodle said.  
Murdoc felt her lean against his shoulder. Noodle's eyes began to well up with tears.  
"Who says we were seperating, love?" Murdoc said with a tone of sympathy. "Don't cry now, everything's okay,"  
"That's what you think." Noodle choked. She wiped her eyes, refusing to let a single tearlet roll down her face. "The last time you nearly killed 2D, you were the one that left us. We had nothing. We were forced to leave each other. Is that what you want to do now, Murdoc? Just leave us behind again?"  
Murdoc held Noodle's hand with both of his own. "No matter how hard I've tried, love, I could never escape my own band. Even from the middle of the ocean. And I sure as hell can't stay away from what I created,"  
"What do you mean by that?" Noodle asked.  
"Well...it goes to show that once we were overtaken by our success, we couldn't leave each other."  
"Is that how you feel with 2D? Do you think he's still here with us?"  
"In parts of my own beliefs, the afterlife doesn't exactly exist. But I can still feel his presence. Even in this room, he's hasn't left,"  
Noodle withdrew her hands from Murdoc and placed them at her sides. "Then maybe we should visit him. All of us together this time,"  
Murdoc gave Noodle a reassuring smile. "I suppose it should be done,"  
Noodle's face suddenly lit up, as I if she hadn't been crying at all. "Really? You'll come with us? Even though you have a cold?"  
"Only if Russel's driving,"  
Noodle gave Murdoc a tight hug, the first time since after the funeral. "There's the Murdoc I know,"  
Murdoc hugged her back, shocked from how warm he became from her physical body heat. "Yeah. I'm still here,"  
~~~  
Russel parked the car in the same spot as before; right next to 2D's headstone on the edge of the driveway. The trio walked through the snow, which was much deeper than before.  
When they reached the headstone, Noodle set down four identical candles. Then Russel put a framed portrait of 2D right in front of the inscription. Noodle lit the candles, softly illuminating the portrait.  
She, Russel and Murdoc knelt down in the snow, shrouding themselves together. There was no wind or falling show, but only the sound of complete silence.  
"It's been a while since we've all been here in one place," Russel said, breaking the silence. "Our own lives have been getting in the way of everything, it seems."  
"But all that matters is that we're together, right?" Noodle asked.  
"Yeah. Exactly."  
She put her head on Russel's shoulder, as a single tear drop rolled down her face and into the snow. Russel squeezed her hand, pulling her closer.  
"Oh, 2D...Why did we let this happen?" Noodle fell into the snow, outstrecthing her arms out towards the portrait. Murdoc and Russel immediately tried to gently pry the sobbing, shaking woman off of the ground, but she wouldn't budge from the spot.  
"2D..." Noodle cried softly. "You were so young..."  
"Noodle, love," Murdoc whispered. "We're here."  
Russel started to cry as well. He held her close, rubbing her back. "Just let it all out."  
Just as it was the day 2D died, the three of them huddled together, Russel acting as a boulder against the sub-zero temperature. It was then that Murdoc began to sob harder than he had ever sobbed in his life. 2D's portrait looked back at him, smiling with the genuine happiness that he had with all his heart.  
They stayed at 2D's grave until one by one, all the candles blew out.  
 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

It's nightfall.  
With the paper factory shut down for the holidays, the polluting smog slowly cleared from the air, revealing the true holiday nature of the condensed neighborhood.  
Wibbly Wobbly street boasted a plethora of color and LED lights that were nearly blinding to look at. Christmas trees decked in gold garland and tinsel were visible in nearly every window, on display for everyone to see. Families welcomed relatives and friends into their humble homes, letting them come together to bask in comforting warmth.  
Sheltered from the crisp winter chill, one little girl stood by the windowsill in her home. The room she was standing in had a luxrious atomsphere, complete with the aroma of freshly baked cookies and 'Ave Maria' playing softly from the radio. As her breath fogged up the window, she looked down upon the street, looking at all the lights and other families who were having dinner through their own windows.  
Every light in every flat was turned on-all except for the one directly across the street.  
There were no lights. No tree. No people in every room laughing and drinking champagne. She kept her curious gaze on the dark flat, wondering. Wondering about how Santa would come down their chimney and bring presents if nobody was home.  
~~~  
Russel parked the car on the curb and shut off the ignition. Instead of stepping out of the door right away, however, he remained in the driver's seat, still gripping the wheel until the whites of his knuckles showed.  
Noodle sat beside him in the passenger seat, wringing her hands. She hated when Russel was nervous.  
"Russel?" Noodle asked timidly. She always knew that whenever he was stressed, he would get extremely quiet and start shaking like an earthquake.  
"It's gonna be just like last time," Russel said. "I'll knock on that door, then they'll remember why I haven't gone to see them for the past month."  
Noodle tilted her neck, showing that she was extremely clueless. "It's because you've been working so many hours-"  
"Why don't you ask Muds? He was there too, you know."  
"I don't understand."  
Russel opened his car door, putting his hood up against the wind. "He'll tell you why. Trust me. Stay in the car; I won't be gone long."  
With that, he slammed the door shut, and walked to the back of the car. Noodle and Murdoc felt the trunk move them in their seats as Russel shut it and made his way towards the house they were parked next to.  
Murdoc remained motionless in the backseat, blowing his nose into one of the many tissues he had already used. He stuffed it in his pocket, wrapping his arms around himself.  
"If I have to sit here and think for a single second about why we're here, he's out of his mind," Noodle snapped. She turned back to face Murdoc, who had his head down but his eyes staring up towards her.  
"You really want to know?" Murdoc said.  
"Was it worse than last night?"  
"No. Far from that."  
Murdoc and Noodle looked out the frost-tinted window, watching Russel's shadowy outline knock on the front door. It opened, revealing Mr. David Pot.  
Russel began to speak; Murdoc could see his lips form the words: "I'm so sorry." He hands David a two identical presents, wrapped in red paper and topped with a bow. David looks at Russel with a skeptical expression, but then reveals a soft smile.  
The two of them exchange a small hug. David is gesturing Russel towards the doorway. Russel points to the car, shaking his head. David looks like he's being insistent. Russel makes his way towards the car, stopping for a few seconds. Murdoc holds his breath.  
Through the car window, Murdoc can barely make out the words: "Just a second," as Russel steps onto the road. He taps on Murdoc's window, pointing his finger down.  
Murdoc slowly rolled down the window with the touch of a button. "What did he say?"  
"He invited us all to come in for dinner."  
~~~  
A freshly cooked turkey. Two bottles of champagne. Cranberry sauce. Mashed potatoes. Fresh yams. A dozen biscuits.  
They couldn't believe their eyes at the feast set before them. It was like a dream, a hallucination after eating nothing but takeout and french fries to keep their stomachs alive.  
Rachel was beaming, covered in what appeared to be flour in her apron and hair. She took off the apron and ran her fingers through her gray locks.  
"I know it's a little rude to barge in since you and David are having your holiday dinner, but by all means, you don't have to give us any of your food." Russel said, trying to keep his eyes off the gravy bowl.  
"Do you really think David and I could eat all of this by ourselves?" Rachel said with a smirk. "I don't think of it as barging in. You all came at just the perfect time; Come, sit, loves. We don't want our food to get cold."  
Taken by surprise from Rachel's insistent tone, the trio took seats next to each other, Noodle intentionally between Murdoc and Russel. David and Rachel took their spots at the edge of the table.  
"It's been a while since we've had a full table, hasn't it?" Rachel asked her husband.  
"It has, love," David said in reply.  
The two of them began to pour champagne in their wine glasses, then made their seperate ways around the table to pour the vanilla-tinted spritz into the others. Russel, Noodle and Murdoc sat like statues, each uttering a small 'thank you' when their glasses were full.  
When Rachel and David sat back down, they joined their hands together, lowering their faces towards the oak-furnished table. Immediately, they lifted their heads back up, Rachel giving the band a nervous smile.  
"I don't know if any of you are religious or not, but...We usually say a prayer for our son before meals," she said with a hint of hesitation. "That is, if you don't mind."  
Murdoc shifted in his seat, feeling himself reach towards his upside-down cross. He could've sworn that David Pot was looking directly at every single movement he made.  
However, without a second thought, Russel joined both of his hands with Murdoc and Noodle. With a plastered smile on his face, he said; "It would be our pleasure."  
Because they were on opposite sides from the Pot couple, Noodle held hands with Rachel while Murdoc took David's in a very weak grip. His hands were sweating to the point where his palms were slick like melted butter.  
"Let us pray," David uttered, keeping his glanc directly on his wife. "Heavenly Father, we thank you for this meal, and allowing us to be together," He paused, tilting his head towards the ceiling. "Please watch over us this night, and please watch over our son. In your name we pray, Amen."  
The rest of them muttered a single "Amen" and released their hands.  
While David and Rachel calmly passed plates of the food across the table, Murdoc eyed them as a spectacle of colored manna sent from heaven above. When the carved turkey was passed to him, he carefully gripped the tongs with a shaky hand, lowering the pieces one-by-one onto his own plate. His eyes bulged at the sight of fresh cranberry sauce and his mouth watered when the smell of warm, flaky biscuits reached him last.  
He was so hungry-but he could only bring himself to eat one yam.  
The rest of them, however, ate a considerably large amount of the food that was made. Russel did his fair share of making sure that David and Rachel got what they needed on their plates, but nearly began to cry because he had forgotten how good real food was. He ended up finishing the entire bowl of mashed potatoes.  
Once dinner had ended, Noodle helped Rachel Pot clear the table, wash the dishes and put the leftovers in their fridge. Russel and David Pot sat in the den and played a game of Gin Rummy. Murdoc was immersed in the copy of Moby Dick and sat right below the ticking cuckoo clock.  
The words on the paper were jumbled up as if Murdoc was looking at black ink splotches. Even the simplest of letters became unreadable. Murdoc found himself reading the opening sentence over and over again instead of turning the page.  
"Call me Ishmael, Call me Ishmael, Call me Ishmael..."  
He read the words in sync with the ticking cuckoo clock, which was hung directly above his head, and watched over the dimly-lit den.  
"Call me Ishmael."  
Tick, tock,  
"Call me Ishmael."  
Tick tock,  
"Call me-"  
"Murdoc?"  
He closed the book at the sound of his name. Sitting beside him was David, who wasn't exactly glaring at Murdoc, but still felt like his old eyes were burning into his chest.  
Above all, David looked tired. As if he had not been sleeping for days on end.  
"I beg your pardon?" Murdoc said with a squemish in his voice.  
"I want to speak with you. Privately." David said.  
That was not what Murdoc wanted to hear.  
"Right now, you mean?"  
David gestured towards the stairs behind them. "Come with me."  
David wearily pushed his body off the couch, bringing his legs back, then lurching forward. Murdoc followed the older man up the stairs, the aching in his legs reminding him how old they both were. Once they reached the top of the stairs, David walked to the end of the hallway, then opened a door to one of the bedrooms.  
Murdoc took one step inside before David flicked on the light switch. Insantly, he knew exactly where he was.  
It was 2D's childhood bedroom.  
"Take a seat, why don't you?"  
There was nowhere to sit except for on the mattress. It was stripped bare, and so was the rest of the room. The only distinguishable object was an old Casio lying in a corner, surrounded by dust bunnies.  
Murdoc sat on the bed, which squeaked loudly with every movement the springs made. David continued to keep his focus on the wall.  
"About our last...visit, Murdoc," David said. His voice faltered with a deep sigh, making the tension in the room more uncomfortable for the both of them. "I don't suppose you realize that...well, all we ever wanted was for Stu to be safe."  
There was a pause.  
"Go on," Murdoc urged.  
"Well, I'm not sure if you know of the incident when he fell out of that tree as a child; because of that, we had to take... extra precautions," as David said this, he began to pace around the room. He faltered in his steps, limping slightly as the floors creeked. "It was a difficult time for Rachel and I. So many prescriptions were made that year alone, the bills, the medications-he was more of a puppet than a boy: always hung loosley from his bedside..."  
Murdoc gulped. He could feel his hands twitching involuntarily at the word 'puppet.'  
"But, when he finally came around, it was like he was a normal, healthy young boy. He was happy, content, always grateful for the life he had...that was until..."  
Murdoc was shaking. He buried his nails inside the memory foam, feeling the spongy texture seep into his skin. He should've known this was coming.  
David hobbled over to the other man, giving him a suspicious glare through his bifocals. "That...first accident-I tried to tell myself it wasn't real, that it wasn't actually our boy, but when we got the call saying he was in a coma, that was far worse news than finding out he was dead."  
Murdoc remained silent. Was David trying to make him feel guilty?  
"But...that second accident...you were the cause of that also, correct?"  
"Yessir." Murdoc uttered.  
"The day he flew out of the windsheild?"  
"It brought him back around. He was fully functional, as if nothing happened."  
"Then why was the third time any different?"  
Murdoc froze, looking up at David. His expression had turned from suspicion, to a sort of sad anger. There were tears making his eyes glisten.  
"As if one, even two times wasn't enough, you pushed him. You pushed him too far, and now he's dead!" David said.  
Murdoc stood up, feeling the blood boil in his chest. "So you think that happened on purpose, is that it?"  
"You lived, he didn't. It's as simple as that."  
Murdoc began to slowly advance towards David, waving his finger around in circles. "And you want me to just bring him back? Is that what you want?"  
David straightened his back, making him appear taller than he already was. He looked down at Murdoc, staring him straight in the eye.  
"I should have never let my boy be in your disgusting freak-show you call a band."  
The two of them stood facing each other in their stone-cold silence. A sudden draft went through the bare bedroom, sending a wave of repressing chills that Murdoc had grown accustomed to. David, however, sighed, turned away ans shut the door behind him.  
Murdoc was alone once more.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Murdoc spent a very long time in the bathroom. It wasn't the same atmosphere as the one back home; there, the medicine bottles were littered on the counter, mold ran through the tile, and all the walls were a blinding white.  
The Pot's bathroom was entirely carpeted, which was comforting compared to standing on cold tile. An old bathtub stood at the edge of the room, with a leaky faucet that probably hadn't stopped dripping in years. It was complete with walls that were painted yellow and hung paintings of kittens.  
Murdoc found himself enveloped in dread. And he was craving for a bottle of rum.  
There was a loud knock on the door. He lifted himself from the toilet seat and opened the door, which was faded and creaked with every inch it moved. Standing in front of Murdoc was Russel-and unlike before, he looked like a zombie who hadn't slept in weeks.  
"How was your little 'discussion' with David?" Russel asked.  
"Fine, thank you," Murdoc scowled.  
Russel barged his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. "What did he say to you?"  
Murdoc blinked, furrowing his brow. "What's it matter? Why do you always want to get into other people's business?"  
"There's no need to get all defensive, man. I was just asking a question," Russel snapped.  
"Well, I'll tell you this: We need to leave. Right now." Murdoc said, poking Russel firmly in the chest.  
Russel blinked. "What the hell for? I don't know about you, but leaving unexpectedly would be considered rude. You get what I'm sayin'?"  
Murdoc slammed his fists on the counter, looking straight at his own reflection. "Don't be a fuckin' liar, Russ. The only reason why we came here is that you're mooching them off for their food. You just went right up to their door without a call or nothing! We haven't had a decent meal in months, and you just barged in acting like we were homeless. Well guess what, we're doing just fine, aren't we?"  
"Now wait a minute, Murdoc-"  
"You can kiss up to David all you want, same goes for Rachel, but I can gurantee that none of us are welcome here."  
Russel put a colossal hand on his face, letting out a heavy sigh. "Man, are you still mad about the whole will thing? I told them it was just a misunderstanding! You can't just continue that, unless you're just looking for an excuse to argue."  
"Ya know what, Russ? You're so full of shit right now, I can see it spewing out of your mouth and your arse," Murdoc retorted.  
"Here's my suggestion if you wanna leave so badly: just take the car," Russel snapped. "Noodle and I can take a cab in the morning. I don't care."   
Russel crossed his arms and narrowed his eyebrows so that they formed a large crease in his forehead.  
"Well, cabs don't exactly run around here, do they?" Murdoc said, his voice growing louder and more husky. "But in your world, everything just works out the way it's supposed to. Well, guess what? It's not happening here. You get the picture, Russ?"  
Russel lowered himself down to eye level with Murdoc, reaching for his arm. He grabbed it, pulling Murdoc so that their foreheads barely made contact. "The only picture I'm seeing is the one where I break your face off. Bitch."  
A small knock came from the other side of the door. Russel felt his stomach drop and immediately released Murdoc's shirt collar.  
"Is everything okay in there, loves?"  
It was Rachel.  
"E-everything's fine!" Russel stammered. The expression on his face said otherwise.  
"Well, it's getting quite late; I've already set up a bed for you and Murdoc!" Rachel said through the door.  
Murdoc shot Russel a look that would make Satan himself piss his trousers. His head was bound to erupt at any moment, like an active volcano.  
"Oh, that's...very kind of you, Rachel!" Russel replied. "Are you sure that's alright with you and David?"  
There was a moment of passing silence that felt like an entire year. Russel waited anxiously for Rachel's response, in curiosity rather than fear.  
"Of course it is!" Rachel finally chirped. "Besides, it's far too late to be driving all the way to London. You need your rest."  
Murdoc grabbed Russel's arm, furiously gesturing 'no' with his hands. "She's bluffing, I'm telling you!" He whispered.  
"Let go of my fuckin' arm. You're being ridiculous."  
"Russ, you gotta listen to me on this one."  
Russel forced off Murdoc's grip on his arm, barely noticing how deep his nails dug into his skin. "I don't think so, man. You've already caused enough trouble as it is."  
With a deep, exhausted breath, Russel opened the door. Rachel, carrying an armful of bedsheets, revealed a weary smile. Murdoc knew she was suspicious of them.  
"Rachel, you have so much kindness in your heart," Russel said. "And I agree that we all need to be together on this...special holiday."  
Murdoc stared back at his reflection in the mirror. He tried to not think about Rachel judging him with a forced smile. He knew she wanted him, and only him to not be here.  
"Well, if you hadn't visited us, Russel, David and I would be awfully lonely here. We were hoping Stu would be home for Christmas this year," Rachel wiped her eye with one of the bedsheets. "But you all came just like our guardian angels,"  
Rachel began to cry, but there were no tears. Without a second thought, Russel gave her a small side hug, leading her down the hallway.  
"There, there, Rachel. Let me help you with those bedsheets," Russel uttered as they turned away from the bathroom.  
Murdoc wanted to jump out the window and land in the snow, staying out there to freeze for the night.  
It sure as hell sounded a lot better than staying here.  
~~~  
Hours later, Murdoc found himself cramped next to Russel on an old guest mattress.  
If there was one thing Murdoc knew the most about the drummer, it was that he was the world's loudest and heaviest sleeper. He kicked Russel in the back of his shin to keep him from snoring, but he continued to happily sleep away. Irritated and ubearably drenched in sweat, Murdoc tossed and turned aimlessly on the squeaky mattress until he was out of breath.  
"Shit..." Murdoc muttered. He longed for a pair of ear plugs.  
Luckily, he was on the outer end of the bed, allowing him to stray away from Russel. Murdoc's legs and arms just barely dangled above the floor, trying to keep the rest of his body on the mattress.  
That was, until Russel rolled over right on top of him.  
"Satan's ballsack!"  
Russel's weight knocked the breath out of Murdoc, making it impossible for him to crawl out. He kicked and punched with all of the strength he had, like he was being crushed by a huge boulder.  
Russel didn't budge, however; Murdoc felt his head spin and his vision start to blur. With a final burst of strength, Murdoc punched Russel square in the mouth.  
Russel snorted out of his sleep and let out a scream of pain. "OW! WHAT THE HELL?"  
Murdoc shoved the drummer aside, gasping for air in his lungs. Russel made a fetal position on the mattress, gripping on his aching jaw.  
"Just crush me to death, why don't you?!" Murdoc snarled. He continued to cough and wheeze his lungs out. "What am I, a cockroach?"  
Russel sat up, flaring his nostrils at him. "Why'd you have to punch me, you fucking moron?!"  
"Because I nearly died of suffocation thanks to your colossal size!" Murdoc snapped. He sputtered for a moment, trying to further his enraged argument, but all that came out was gibberish.  
The drummer yawned and plopped back down on the bed, making Murdoc jump about 5 inches. "Muds, just forget it."  
"Russ-"  
"FORGET. IT. JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET ME SLEEP."  
With that, Russel fell back asleep and snored just as loud as he did before. Murdoc sat at the edge of the mattress, clutching a lumpy pillow at his chest.  
Letting out a final sigh of frustration, Murdoc got up from the bed, opened the door, and closed it as slow as possible so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping giant behind him.  
A strange sense of uncertainty and fear went through him as he made his way down the pitch-black hallway; he felt the floorboards creak underneath his feet, which were soft in some places and louder than others. He heard the distant cuckoo clock from the downstairs living room, ticking away through the demeaning silence.  
Murdoc wondered what time it was.  
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!  
3 A.M. It was going to be a very long night.  
Murdoc didn't know exactly why he was nervous and sick to his stomach; the house was the definition of comfort and prosperity, but there was something so frightening and uncomfortable about the dark halls and the cuckoo clock that was bound to chime at any second. He continued to cautiously make his way down the stairs and into the living room. The temperature spiked, sending a sudden heat wave through Murdoc's body.  
All he did at first was stood completely still, like a marble statue. The room was dimly lit by a small lamp next to the couch, which illuminated Noodle fast asleep on a pull-out bed. Murdoc watched from a distance, observing the rhythm of her breathing and small finger movements. His ears, however, picked up every tick the cuckoo clock made.  
He remembered the shattering tea cup. The clock striking noon, the bird shrieking in harmony with Rachel's outburst.  
Russel's expression of pure guilt and regret as he hurried Murdoc out of the house...  
How could Noodle sleep through such a haunting device? Murdoc pondered this as he left her to happily dream away.  
A dream...Murdoc felt as if he was sleepwalking and that this whole house was nothing but a huge, lucid dream. He touched the floral-printed wall. That felt real. He rustled his bare foot through the shag carpet, sending a shock of static through his legs. That was real too.  
But Murdoc wanted to be asleep. He was tired, yet his mind was wide awake.  
He sat down on the carpet. He wanted to be in 2D's bed, his safe haven. Refuge from the cold, cruel world that tested his existance. There, Murdoc could lock the door and drown out the cold snares of people who made him more irritated and dazed than he already was.  
He wanted alcohol. Wine. Beer. Whiskey. Vodka. A pack of cigarettes.  
Suddenly, there was the sound of a door knob turning. Murdoc was right next to David and Rachel's bedroom. Without hesitation, he bounded from where he stood and creeped right behind the staircase. David stepped out into the living room, yawning and scratching his head. Murdoc couldn't move up the stairs or else the creaking would catch David's attention.  
Holding his breath, he watched as David moved into the kitchen. Another door closed, and Murdoc knew he was home free. He crept back up the stairs, trying to keep his heart rate relaxed.   
Murdoc listened for the sound of Russel's snoring, which to no surprise, was as clear as a bell, even though the door was shut. Trying to crawl back next to him would be another accident waiting to happen.  
But then Murdoc remembered: 2D's childhood room across the hall. He turned his back to the other guest room and opened the door in front of him. The cold draft hit him again, and his lungs became filled with dust. Murdoc sat down on the bare mattress and laid down on his back. To his total suprise, the ceiling was covered in green, glow-in-the-dark stars.  
Murdoc kept his gaze on the stars, while his hands were folded on his lap. Despite the room being freezing and having a lack of bed sheets, Murdoc finally dozed off and fell fast asleep to the rhythm of the distant cuckoo clock.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Christmas Day.  
The first thing Murdoc noticed that morning was the sweet smell of fresh biscuits. He had almost forgotten that he was not back home, yet knowing that he was still technically in 2D's bed was a reassuring thought. He was sleep-deprived from last night's experience, yet the aroma was enough to draw him out of bed.  
Everyone was already down in the dining room, feasting on what appeared to be a delicious breakfast set on the table. They were laughing and chatting away, as silverware clinked on the Pot's fine china plates. As soon as Murdoc came into sight, the laughter died.  
That was just what he expected.  
"Did you sleep well, love?" Rachel asked. She had a hint of strictness in her voice. "Russel told me you aren't much of a morning person, so we let you rest a little longer."  
Murdoc nodded, trying to not let the four pairs of beckoning eyes bother him. "Yes, thank you."  
"I got a fresh batch of eggs; do you like over-easy?"  
"I don't really do breakfast," Murdoc hastily replied. He wanted more than anything to eat an entire plateful of eggs if he could. "A glass of milk would be nice, though."  
Rachel smiled down at her eggs instead of at him. "Help yourself to as much as you want, love."  
Murdoc cautiously sit himself down at the table, doing his best to keep his distance from everyone, especially Russel. The drummer munched on the last of his eggs as he was making polite conversation with David. Murdoc glanced in their direction, trying to pick up on what they were discussing, but it was obvious the two of them were keeping their voices down.  
Noodle sat directly across from Murdoc, however, taking small sips of orange juice. She was contentful and didn't seem to notice the gloom Murdoc had brought into the morning light.  
"Would you care for another, Noodle?" Rachel asked. "Or some more orange juice?"  
Noodle shook her head in reply. "Even three eggs was enough for me. Thank you."  
Rachel nodded and slid the remaining eggs onto her own plate. She sat down beside Noodle, turning her body away from Murdoc. He looked at Rachel's eggs like they were liquid gold.  
"If you ask me, we should be having more than just plain old eggs and juice," Rachel said to Noodle. "If I had the ingredients for Eggs Benedict, Belgian waffles, gravy on biscuits...this would surely be a Christmas meal."  
Murdoc's pupils began to dilate at the thought of real food. He sipped some of his milk, letting it run down his dried- out throat. It left a sour taste in his mouth.  
"Right you are, darling!" David exclaimed from across the table. "We shouldn't have to let our honored guests eat peasant food! After all, why waste what we already have?"  
"And speaking of which," Rachel chimed in with her husband. "Did you open those lovely gifts that Russel brought last night?"  
David swallowed a large gulp of juice, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "By jove! I can't believe I forgot! Guess that happens with old age; I can't even remember where I left my trousers..."  
"The courdory ones?"  
"No, love, they were polyester. I wore them to church last week, remember?"  
Rachel sighed. "Why don't we worry about your trousers later and see what Russel brought us?"  
David snapped his fingers. "Oh, of course, of course. Let me see if they're still by the tree..."  
He left the table, and came back from the living room with Russel's presents. The foul-tasting milk in Murdoc's mouth grew more sour when he saw Russel's face beaming with pride.  
"Oi, Rachel! Look at this lovely scarf!" David exclaimed. He held up a brand-new scarf, decked with brown and red stripes. Rachel smiled with delight when she held up one that was a light shade of yellow.  
"Did you knit these yourself, Russel? They're so lovely!" Rachel chirped with glee.  
"I wish that were true, ma'am," Russel said. "I can't use knitting needles to save my life. But when I saw the scarves in a London shop window, I instantly thought of you guys wearing them."  
David immediately wrapped his scarf around his neck, striking an awkward, attemped pose. "How do I look, love?"  
Rachel laughed for the first time in nearly two months. She did the same with her own scarf, shifting down the table towards her husband.  
"Dashing. The Queen herself would bow in your prescense." She and David laughed harmoniously, then exchanged a kiss.  
Murdoc had just finished the last of his milk, but immediately wanted it to recoil up his throat and out of his mouth. His own parents, who were just mourning their only son, wanting more than anything in the world for him to be home for Christmas, were suddenly happy? Russel and Noodle were smiling too, and laughing with the old couple. And of all things, it was because of some ridiculous scarves the couple would forget about and replace them with much nicer ones.  
"You are so generous, thinking about us, Russel," Rachel said. "We'd be happy to return the favor."  
"What do you mean? You've already done so much for us, I don't think the scarves exactly add up to how much you've provided," Noodle said. "You and Mr. Pot are the real generous ones."  
David chuckled, giving Noodle a smile. "You can call me David, if you please, dear."  
As the barbaric conversation droned on, Murdoc hastily brought his cup to the sink, washing his remaining milk down the drain. He thought about how many dirty dishes were left on the counter back home, and how they would have to go back to their everyday lives of endless work and arguing.  
After breakfast had ended, Russel and Noodle obliged to do all the dishes and clean the table from any food scraps. Murdoc stayed in the living room, of course, anxiously watching the cuckoo clock as the minutes slowly ticked by. Everyone was in the kitchen, continuing to laugh and chatter amongst the clanking of dishes and water running in the sink.  
He wanted to go home so bad.  
Once the dishes were done and stomachs were full, it was already half past noon. Murdoc had been joined by his bandmates and the Pot couple, but remained distant from them. Just like last night, he felt as if he were invisible. Murdoc could leave the room and drive back to London, and nobody would notice.  
The trio eventually left the Pot home after a long series of heartfelt 'goodbyes' and 'thank yous' for everything that had happened within the past day. Murdoc mumbled a 'good day' to Rachel, but avoided any contact with her husband. He was the first one out the front door and on the sidewalk leading to the street. His eyes watered at the bright sunlight beaming on his face.  
It had been so long since he had seen the sun in its full glory, he thought he was going to go blind just from opening his eyes. Murdoc opened the car door, slipped inside, and locked it shut behind him. He sat there for what seemed like half an hour, feeling the sun warm his legs and face.  
He noticed the keys dangling next to the steering wheel, glimmering in the morning light.  
"Idiot left the keys in here..." Murdoc muttered. He suddenly realized that he could just start the car and leave his bandmates behind. After all, he was the leader, and it should've been him that bought this car instead of Russel.  
The second that Murdoc's fingertips touched the edge of the keys, he felt someone open the trunk. He put his hands in his lap, remaining still in his seat. He heard more laughing coming from the outside, until Russel opened the driver door.  
The drummer gave Murdoc a surpressed eye roll, then got inside the car next to him. "I know how bad you wanna get back to London. And we're only leaving 'cuz I have a full night shift tomorrow."  
"Of course you do," Murdoc replied hoarsely.  
Russel huffed out of his nose. "Ya know what? I don't even care what you gotta say right now, old man. I'm gonna drive us right home, just like you wanted yesterday."  
Murdoc said nothing, of course. The car pulled away from the Pot household, the couple wearing their scarves and waving until the car was gone from sight.  
~~~  
Although the drive back to London was sunny and cloudless, the sky turned foggy upon entering the city limits. Murdoc took a deep breath as he stepped outside the car, relieved that he was finally back home. All of the tension and stress that was placed upon him within the past 3 days could finally be pushed aside, to be forgotten for a while.  
Instead of a full-course Christmas meal, Russel ordered cheap takeout and filled three glasses with expired Coke. He, Noodle and Murdoc ate at the table together for the first time in weeks, granted that it was still strewn with full ashtrays and stale bread crumbs.  
When they did sit together on occassion, they hardly spoke or looked at each other for a single minute. Unlike 2D's home, the warm, nostalgic atmosphere was replaced with a cold, gray melancholy that seemed to shift from room to room. Murdoc felt his body temperature drop once more, and the cold he had the day before was coming back to his senses.  
He only ate one bite of his takeout before leaving his plate on the table and retreating up to 2D's bedroom.  
It was just as familiar as how he left it. The bed was still unmade, Murdoc's clothes were all over the floor, beer cans were scattered on the windows and dresser, and old cigarette butts were in a pile on the nightstand.  
Murdoc sighed, collapsing on the bed and burying his nose in the bedsheets. This was his home, his life away from life itself.  
But the moment was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.  
"Whoever it is, just come in and go," Murdoc whined.  
"Well, if you insist. I wasn't gonna bother you for too long anyway," Russel's voice said from the other side of the door. He entered the room only giving Murdoc a single passing glance.  
"I asked David about your conversation last night, Murdoc," Russel said."And..."  
"And?" Murdoc urged.  
"And you were right. I totally forced you to be polite, and I just wanted to make things right and...have them forget about that last visit. But it's gonna take more time than we thought."  
Russel tossed a small box onto the bed, right next to Murdoc's lap.  
"I owe you one, Muds. Merry Christmas."  
Russel left the room, shutting the door behind him. Murdoc looked at the box, which was wrapped in newspaper and taped together unevenly. He ripped the paper open, revealing a box of Lucky Lungs cigarettes.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_"Merry Christm-er, I mean, here you go, Murdoc."_

_2D's feeble hands held out a tiny box wrapped in red paper. Written scraggly in a black marker on the top read: "To: Murdoc". The older man gave him a suspicious glance, but hesitantly took the gift._

_"You actually went and blew your money on me?" Murdoc muttered._

_2D nodded. "Yep! Actually, I hadn't got much on me, so Russel lent me some. I just picked it out."_

_Murdoc examined his present, which was obviously wrapped by 2D; the paper was ripped in several spots and put back together by smaller strands of tape. The corners were also noticeably jagged and crumpled._

_"Open it, Midori, Open it!" exclaimed 10 year old Noodle, who eagerly bounced up and down on Russel's lap._

_Murdoc ripped the packaging open, which revealed a small box of Lucky Lungs cigarettes._

_"Huh..." Murdoc muttered. He looked at it with astonishment, as if he had never seen a box of cigarettes before. Of course, there was nothing special about his personal favorite brand, but it was meant for him, from 2D, and he didn't have to spend a single pound._

_Murdoc glanced over at 2D, who insistently had his eyebrows raised and waited for a response. The bassist cracked a small grin and stuck the box in his pocket. "Thanks, D. I appreciate it,"_

_2D grinned. "Aw, see Russel? I told you he would like it!"_

_"Yeah, I know, D. That's the first time I've ever seen him smile," Russel said._ _"But we don't want you smokin' inside the studio, Muds; Noodle can't stand the smell."_

_Noodle shook her head in reply. "Icky stuff. Makes me cough."_

_Murdoc gave Noodle a small nod to tell her that he understood. "Sure thing, kid."_

The best part about opening a fresh pack of cigarettes to Murdoc is always the perfect alignment of 20 white, identical sticks pressed side by side. He takes a couple minutes to run his fingers along them, feeling the bumps and rolls the cylinders make. Murdoc took one from the center, brought it to his lips, lit the end and inhaled... Exhale. Indulge.

_"Can I bum one, mate?"_

Murdoc stopped for a moment. He is alone, at least that's what he thinks in his own mind. His head is still sticking outside 2D's bedroom window to keep his cigarette smoke out of the flat. That was his voice. Nobody else had a voice as defining as his. Murdoc shrugged and continued to inhale the cigarette.

_Murdoc stops smoking for a moment and frantically jumps at the sound of 2D's voice. He turned around quickly, gulping and growing warm at at the sight of the singer towering above him. It is fairly dark outside the studio doors, but he can still make out the the charcoal eyes and vivid hair._

_Murdoc cleared his throat so he could speak clearly. "Should've bought your own pack."_

_2D crossed his arms. "Well, can I at least sit out here?"_

_Murdoc pondered the question for a moment; 2D was just complaining about how damn cold the weather was and how he would rather melt in the sun rather than live in Kong. Murdoc found it suspicious, but he decided to seize the opportunity._

_"Fine."_

_The singer comfortably took a spot next to the older man, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. Murdoc continued to smoke, but observed every move 2D made, from the way his shoulders slouch to how he bit his nails down until they bled._

Murdoc felt blood run down from his thumbnail onto his first knuckle. "Shit."

He spat out the nail he had chewed off and let it bleed and send a stinging sensation throughout his hand. He inhaled the cigarette once more, trying to numb his senses.

_"Shit," 2D mutters. "Not again."_

_Murdoc puts down his cigarette. "What is it now?"_

_2D turned to Murdoc, holding up his bleeding thumbnail. "I bit too deep again. It hurts like hell," he whimpered._

_Murdoc examined the nail, which 2D had bitten entirely off down to the skin. He rolls his eyes as the singer sucks on his thumb like a child._

_"Oh, stop that," Murdoc snapped irritably. "That's not gonna help, you know."_

_"Don't care," 2D cowered._

The bassist put his tongue on the bleeding hangnail, immediately drawing his mouth back from its sting. With a frustrated groan, Murdoc huffily stomped out of the bedroom and into 2D's walk in bathroom. He flung open the medicine cabinet, using his cigarette hand to shuffle through all the now useless bottles of painkillers, medication and toothbrushes. "

Where are they, where, goddamit?" Murdoc grumbled.

_"They've gotta be around 'ere somewhere, goddammit!" Murdoc shuffled through the pile of first aid supply stocked in the bathroom._

_2D stood behind him, his mouth still on his bleeding thumb. He dodged the objects that hurtled towards him, including a tube of toothpaste, dusty cough drops, a bottle of cough syrup, and some unopened packages of protection._

_"Murdoc, are you sure there's any-"_

_"FOUND 'EM!"_

_Murdoc brushed himself off and shut the toilet door behind him. In his hand was a small box of bandages. The singer eyed Murdoc for a moment, then at the box he was holding._

_"Huh. I didn't know you kept bandages," 2D said._

_"Of course I do, you idiot," Murdoc replied. "Now take that bloody finger out of your mouth and hold still."_

Murdoc tried to keep his thumb still but his hand shook as he tried to peel the backing off of the bandage. The nail was starting to sting again, and his sight was growing more fuzzy. Once the peel had come off, Murdoc slapped the bandage right on his thumbnail and clumsily wrapped it around.

_"You're shaking again," Murdoc said. "No, I'm not, Murdoc," 2D replied. "Can you put the bandage on now?"_

_"Maybe I will when you STOP FIDGETING!"_

_With another groan of utter annoyance, Murdoc carefully wrapped the pink bandage around 2D's red-tinted thumb until it was completely hidden. The two of them stood in front of the toilet in an awkward silence. Without intending to do so, their hands slowly became intertwined with each other. Murdoc realized that 2D's hands were much larger and bony than his own. But above all, they were desirably soft._

Murdoc stepped out of the bathroom and took his original place back by the open window. His cigarette had burned out from the cold and was lying on the sill. When the last glowing embers had died out, Murdoc disposed the cigarette out the window and watched it fall and sink into the snow. He leaned on the sill, twiddling his thumbs and caressing his rough patched hands together.

_"Hey, Murdoc, I just realizing somethin'," 2D piped up._

_Murdoc raised his eyebrows. He waited for a follow up from 2D, but they continued to stand in silence. Murdoc cleared his throat. "Are you waiting for me to guess, or what?"_

_2D smiled in response. "I dunno, it sounds stupid."_

_"Everything you already say is stupid."_

_2D suppressed a small smile. "Well, then I'll just say it." Their hands released from each other and 2D pointed to his bandaged thumb. "You fixed me. That was real nice of you to do that, and even though you didn't really have to, you just did it."_

_The bassist's brow furrowed, trying to hold in his surprise. "The bloody hell are you blabbering about?" "_

_We both got somethin' for each other, Murdoc; I gave you the cigarettes and you gave me this bandage."_

_Murdoc was completely lost for a snarky response. It was only a small cut on 2D's thumb, one of the least painful nuisances in the world, yet 2D acted as if he had gotten a brand new keyboard._

_"If only there were somethin' to fix my eyes, though," 2D said. "But that doesn't matter 'cause I can already see, ya know?"_

_"For someone with no eyeballs or common sense, I'll take your opinion with a grain of salt,"_ _Murdoc replied. "But you seriously think that one bloody bandage passes off as a holiday gift?"_

_"Of course I do! Although I really like the Scooby Doo and Looney Tunes ones; my mum gave those to me all the time cuz I was so clumsy as a kid..." 2D drifted off, looking at Murdoc from the smeary toilet mirror. He wriggled his thumb to keep the blood circulating through the bandage._

_Murdoc opened up the tin box, which held about a dozen more individually wrapped bandages. "Face ache," he said._

_"Yeah, Murdoc?" 2D replied without knowing he responded to his dire nickname._

_"Wait outside the door for a second."_

_2D blinked. "Do you need to take a piss, or-"_

_Murdoc shoved the singer out the rickety door and slammed it shut. 2D stood awkwardly, hearing more shuffling and the ripping of paper. After a few seconds passed, Murdoc emerged holding the box now wrapped in yellowing toilet paper._

_"Happy holidays, Dents!"_

_2D's eyes lit up at the sight of Murdoc's smile. He had never seen the bassist genuinely happy before, and until this point, he wasn't even sure what his teeth looked like until that moment. 2D gingerly took the box and unraveled the toilet paper surrounding it._

_"You're giving me all your bandages?" 2D asked meekly._

_"You need 'em more than I do."_

One cigarette wasn't enough to last. Murdoc took out another from the pack, using the hand without his bandage. He lit the end and inhaled.

_The two of them were seated outside the front doors of Kong again, sharing the box of Lucky Lungs and an old bottle of rum dug up from the back of the studio fridge._

_Murdoc couldn't stop looking at him._

_2D's fingers fumbled around with the cigarette, his hand trying to adjust to the bandage. Murdoc intently watched as the young man stuck out his tongue, clearly having trouble getting a good handle on his cigarette. 2D let out a small grunt, his brow furrowed, until a smile of satisfaction came to his lips. He got a good grip of the cigarette and the lighter. Once the end was lit, he inhaled, waited for several seconds, and blew a scraggly smoke ring. It drifted through the cold air and faded away. "_

_Crud," 2D whined. "That one sucked."_

_Murdoc chuckled, blowing two rings much larger and more impressive right in 2D's face. The singer coughed and wheezed in response. "_

_You son of a-" 2D hacked up his lungs before he could finish._

_"Oh, shut it," Murdoc said, jabbing him on the arm. He grabbed the bottle of rum and swigged it. "You're just jealous."_

_"I am not." 2D smacked Murdoc's hand away, wrapping his gangly arms firmly against his own chest. He shot the bassist a glare that nearly made him look intimidating. 2D took a sip of rum, not giving Murdoc a single glance._

_"Aw, come on now, kid," Murdoc implied._

_"I'm going inside; 'S too cold to stay out here," 2D argued._

_He stood up, dropped his cigarette, but did not open the studio door. He just remained still, and shifted his feet like he was waiting for someone. Murdoc turned his neck, waiting for 2D to grab the handle, or at least move from the spot. But then Murdoc realized he was the one who was being waited on._

_"Help me up, Dents. I need to make sure Russel didn't eat all my fruitcake," Murdoc said as he lifted up his free arm._

_2D grabbed his hand, hoisting him up with all of his lacking strength. In fact, 2D pulled so hard, that he lost his balance on the concrete. He fell backwards, taking Murdoc with him. The two of them landed hard on the frozen ground with 2D writhing in pain and Murdoc laying on his chest._

_"Bloody 'ell, son of a piss eating, bitch faced-" 2D yelled, followed by several unintelligent curse words. He tried to push himself off the ground, but the wind and Murdoc's weight had been knocked right out of his chest._

_Murdoc, still laying on the singer's torso, couldn't move or speak. He smelled butterscotch and rum._

Murdoc inhaled 2D's red and white windbreaker, which had not been washed or worn in months. He had discovered the jacket in 2D's closet, even though a majority of his clothes had been given away a month before. There was his familiar smell of butterscotch, cigarettes, and fresh laundry. Murdoc had grown to become accustomed to the aroma, which was instantly comforting the moment his nostrils touched the fabric. But the scent was fading. Murdoc put on the jacket, inhaling its fumes.

_"I didn't know my clothes could come off."_

_"Yer just like a snake, 2D...shedding your skin, ya know?"_

_It was 2 in the morning, and 2D and Murdoc had managed to polish off 3 more bottles of rum in the Winnebago, plus some shots of whiskey. They were so drunk, that they had forgotten their own names._

_Murdoc was wearing 2D's windbreaker, which had been thrown on his face when the singer was 'shedding.' "_

_Oi, yer knickers are showing," Murdoc slurred._

_"Oopsie day," 2D giggled. He hiccuped, taking another swig of rum."This is so weird, it feels like I'm naked."_

_Murdoc let out a giant belch, then vomited on the carpet. "Heyyy, I just had this carpet shampooed," he wheezed._

_"Shuddup, I'm trying to get this blue stuff off my head," 2D said as he began to tug at his own hair._

_Murdoc boosted himself from the seat he was sitting in and clumsily skidded towards 2D. "Let me help you with that,"_

_Murdoc lazily stood on his toes and flung his hands on 2D's head. They did not stay in his hair for very long, however, because Murdoc had no absolutely no control of his limbs. The two of them hiccuped and continued to have a giggling fit like teenage girls at a sleepover. Murdoc playfully slapped 2D's arse and rested his head on his shoulder._

_"Wouldn't it be great if we were a baaand?" Murdoc said._

_2D perched his chin on top of Murdoc's hair. "But we arrree, right? Like, don't you play the...the diddly doo stringy thingy?" "_

_Wiggly diddly...errything's wiggly..."_

_2D couldn't even focus on standing up. He sat down on the carpet, the lights of the Winnebago spinning around him. Murdoc wiped some vomit away from his face, continuing_ _to wheeze his drunken song. He buried his face in 2D's chest, inhaling a sweet smell. He couldn't remember what the scent was called, but he loved it. 2D leaned backward as Murdoc continued to forcefully rub his face on him._

_"It smells pretty..." Murdoc's voice was muffled, but 2D could barely made out what he said. "Do you bathe in flowers?"_

_"Yeahh..." 2D said. "I like daisies."_

_Murdoc couldn't wipe the smile away from his vomit covered face. His fingers found 2D's hand, and once again,they became intertwined. "_

_Let me stay with you tonight."_

_"But this is your car," 2D replied. He could already feel his senses numbing and his vision go black._

_"Oh, right," Murdoc slurred. "I have a bed, I think."_

_2D's eyes lit up. "Is it nice?"_

_"Yeah. Come wif me."_

The warmth and comfort of 2D's bed welcomed Murdoc with open arms. He rested for a while, realizing something he hadn't felt in a long time: He was lonely. In fact, Murdoc was so unbearably lonely, he fashioned 2D's jacket around one of his pillows and placed it right next to him. He put his arm around the pillow, imagining it was 2D himself. Murdoc smiled to himself, holding it closer to his chest.

_Despite that the Winnebago wasn't much smaller than a school bus, it took nearly 10 minutes for Murdoc and 2D to navigate their way to the bed. It was a small space, and a very cold night, so their body heat combined with a blanket provided instant warmth for them. 2D collapsed on the bed, attempting to make room for his companion._

_"Scoot your bollocks, mate, I'm trying to find my feet." 2D said irritably._

_"Well, I hope you do," Murdoc replied. He vomited again, but swallowed it back before it could leave his mouth. "You're so stupid."_

_"I knoww," 2D smiled. "I can't help myself."_

_"Ya want a midnight kiss?"_

_2D shrugged, as if he did not even acknowledge the question. "But we don't got no mistletoe."_

_Murdoc suddenly felt like a lightbulb lit up in his head. "Oh yeahh, it's Christmas, isn't it?"_

_"I don't even know me own birthday," 2D hiccuped._

_Murdoc leaned across to the singer, blindly grabbing him by the waist. "Well, I'm gonna kiss you, okay?"_

_2D lazily looked at the man staring up at him. He wasn't exactly sure what Murdoc had said, but whatever it was, he was probably fine with it. 2D nodded, and the bassist reluctantly gave him the wettest, sloppiest lip lock he had ever experienced._

_"JESUS FUCKPBBTH-" 2D tried to exclaim, but he could not free himself from Murdoc's arm lock. He was too disoriented and weak to move a single muscle in his body._

_Once Murdoc had finally pulled away, 2D sat on the bed in total shock as a line of drool dripped down from his lower lip. They did not say a word._

_2D franctically wiped the spit off his mouth, sputtering and swaying from intoxication. Murdoc's hands tried to grab at his exposed torso, but they were both too drunk to coordinate their motions. Eventually, however, 2D calmed himself and looked at the bassist with a slacked expression._

_The two of them leaned in and kissed once more, then again, and again, and again, for a long period of time. Murdoc felt his groin grow warm, and was too drunk to hold back a soft groan from his throat._

_"Dents..."_

_"What isit?" 2D replied, planting a clumsy kiss on Murdoc's face._

_"You taste terrible."_

_Russel and Noodle had no knowledge of the affair._


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Time for Murdoc seemed to get slower and dragged on relentlessly as the holidays transitioned into January. Winter continued to toil endlessly as he spent his days either sleeping or finding ways to distract himself from constant loneliness. 2D's bedroom began to grow more dank with the smell of cigarettes and stale beer, so Russel and Noodle did their best to not go in there unless they absolutely had to. Murdoc grew more and more sick to his stomach as he spent his days wasting away with every drop of alcohol he drank. Even Russel was too distracted to even care about how much Murdoc smoke and drank on a daily basis.

Because what the drummer didn't consider was how Murdoc's toxic habits began to spread beyond his boundaries.

It started in the bathroom right across from 2D's bedroom. The stream of cigarette ashes and beer cans made their way onto the tiles, and in places like the bathtub, the sink, and the toilet seat. The liquid slowly seeped between the surfaces, its scent reeking throughout. Then the trail would continue down the stairs and into the living room, where the cushions were already filled with crumpled wrappers and stale food.

Murdoc would drink his fourth or fifth beer in front of the television, while his bloodshot eyes remained glued to the screen. Sometimes the screen was playing a rerun of some sort, but most of the time, it was shut off. There was nothing but a void of black that the bassist would stare into until his beer ran dry. Tonight, however, the television was on, which gave Murdoc more distraction from the outside world.

The program, which was something related to golf, droned on as the sun disappeared under the smog. Once nightfall came, Noodle came home from her day at the paper mill. Exhausted and frostbitten from walking to and from her work, Noodle never bothered to clean the house anymore. She passed by the littered beer cans and cigarette stubs without a single glance. Noodle climbed the stairs to the living room, where she saw Murdoc in his nightly routine of television and intoxication. She wanted to say something to him, but there was no telling what his reaction would be. Murdoc was so absorbed in the program, he was not aware that Noodle was watching him intently. She left the living room without a single word spoken.

_Murdoc never dozed off from the television, or even got up to go to the bathroom, but just sat there. Unblinking and completely oblivious to his surroundings._

_"You've been watching that thing all night, Dents. It's nearly sunup."_

_"Overtime. I can't sleep."_

_Murdoc graveled at the singer, who kept his emotionless gaze at the blue light of the screen. He was like a moth to a flame, focusing at nothing else but the television in front of him. "You know it'll only keep you awake," Murdoc said hastily._

_"Funny, cos' Russel only falls asleep with the telly on," 2D replied._

_"Well, you're not him, are you?"_

_2D ignored him and continued to keep his attention on the screen. But he already knew that wouldn't stop Murdoc from leaving the room._

Hours passed. Murdoc did not even notice the door slam below him. It was followed by a series of grunts and what sounded like a stomping of boots. Even when the stomping reached the living room, Murdoc did not show any reaction.

"Hey."

Murdoc knew that someone-or something was talking to him, yet he remained oblivious. The screen seemed to capture his full attention.

"Don't give me that look. I know you can hear me," Russel demanded.

Silence.

"Ya know what, whatever. I don't give a shit. I've already had to deal with pricks tonight, and dealing with you is another thing entirely. Have you just been sitting there all night?"

Murdoc glared at the drummer, who was obviously more pissed than a sore mule. Russel smelled of old whiskey and his frosty eyes were tinted with veins of red.

"Muds. Earth to Muds." Russel waved a hand in front of Murdoc's emotionless face.

 _"The bloody hell do you want, Russ?!"_ Murdoc finally snapped. He forcibly smacked Russel's hand away and gave him a stern growl.

Russel, even though he was too tired to care about Murdoc's outburst, immediately backed away from the other man as if he was a rabid dog.

"I was just wondering how your night was. You know, like...basic conversation?" Russel said with a bit of hesitation.

"I'm good, Russ. Just fine. Thanks for asking," Murdoc replied. "As if you had to ask."

Russel firmly crossed his arms on his chest. "Well, yeah, because sometimes I wonder what you even do here alone. Noodle and I don't work full-time for nothing."

"Mm. That's great, Russ. Why don't you go on about work. I always love hearing your dumb sob stories."

Russel felt one of his veins burst. He wanted to lunge at Murdoc, strangle him and watch his face turn blue, but he resisted the urge with a shaking fist. "Whatever. I'm going to bed," Russel sighed. "I'm too tired for your shit."

Without another word, he left the living room with steam shooting out of his head. Murdoc did grow tired eventually, but it was only after his last beer had run out. He switched off the television and pulled the blanket he was wearing closer to him. He was freezing, and it wasn't just from the lack of heat.

_"Why don't you just to your own bed?" Murdoc asked._

_2D nuzzled his face in Murdoc's shoulder, drawing them closer together. "S' too far. I'm too tired."_

_Murdoc ran his fingers through 2D's hair, a familiar sense he had grown accustomed to. The two of them relaxed on each other as the blanket surrounded them with warmth and security. Their hearts pounded against each other, as if they were a chain of rhythm._

_"Stay here tonight," 2D said._

_"I wasn't gonna go anywhere, dumbarse," Murdoc replied hastily._

_2D grinned as he wrapped his arms around Murdoc's torso._

_"I know. I just wanted to make sure."_

_"Then go to sleep."_

_"Um, Murdoc?"_

_"What?"_

_"Love you."_

_"Yeah, Sure."_

It's so cold.  


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warnings**  
> Substance abuse, pills  
> Physical violence

The cycle of endless intoxication and dreariness had taken Murdoc into its grasp by the time mid-January rolled around. Time became an illusion, and so were the days that passed him by. Just like the rooms in the flat, Murdoc grew colder and more anxious with every beer he drank and every cigarette he dragged.  
His body ached constantly.  
All he could think about was numbing himself. Getting rid of the pain that seeped in his tired body and made it impossible to eat or sleep. Murdoc soon realized that alcohol wasn't the solution.  
He needed something stronger. Something that would take him out of his misery-at least for a while.  
Murdoc paced around the flat, pondering and looking through the kitchen cabinets for anything that could ease him. Dozens of cans of soup and beans fell to the floor and rolled through the kitchen. Open bags of instant oatmeal and saltine crackers were thrown at the wall, exploding and sending its contents everywhere.  
All he saw was food, which was nothing but garbage to him.  
Ease the pain, ease the pain, make it go away, Murdoc endlessly repeated in his mind. His temples continued to throb and his stomach lurched with every motion he made.  
Then the thought hit him like a brick to the head.  
2D's migraine perscriptions. Bottles. Painkillers.  
Pills.  
Within less than 5 minutes, Murdoc had consumed half of a bottle of 2D's paracetamol-that or it was either aspirin, ibuprofen or a combination of all three.  
Murdoc couldn't care less. He flushed the pills down with some water, letting them sink into his system. His head continued to pound, and every thought he had made him ache more. He looked at his reflection in the mirror.  
His hair was slick with grease, just as it usually was. However, small bits of dandruff appeared just above Murdoc's scalp and fell on his shoulders like snow whenever he scratched his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and one of them was twitching and pulsing involuntarily. Plaque coated his teeth and his tongue was starting to dry up and turn white.  
He was an image of pity and self-destruction.  
An absolute madman.  
"I suppose you don't mind if I help myself," Murdoc said to the mirror. "After all, he won't be needing these. It would be a waste to throw 'em out."  
He held another bottle of prescription in a shaky hand. His eye began to twitch faster than before.  
"Don't worry, I won't be taking any more after today," Murdoc said, with a louder tone than before. "I'm doing you a favour, aren't I?"  
He made a small pile of pills in his hand and closed the medicine cap. With a swift motion, Murdoc swallowed 3 of them and washed them down with a swig of water.  
But what good would it do? Murdoc thought madly. You're not sick. Just sick in the head, you bastard.  
"Stop it."  
Inhale. Exhale. Don't forget to breathe.  
The door below him slammed. Just as Murdoc was about to finish the rest of the pills, there was a small yell, followed by the sound of metal clanking.  
"MURDOC-SAAMAAAA!!!!"  
Murdoc couldn't tell if the yell was angry or hurt. It was a mix between the two emotions that still drew him out of the bathroom.  
Upon entering the kitchen, he saw Noodle on the floor surrounded by the soup cans he had thrown earlier. She saw Murdoc and immediately gave him a stern frown.  
"Could you explain," Noodle began. "Why I nearly broke my arm over a can of soup?"  
Murdoc looked down at her, unsure of how to respond to the question. He was still trying to get used to the buzz of 2D's pills, and wasn't sure where and how to focus.  
"I...can't help but wonder how you didn't see them on the floor in the first place," Murdoc replied.  
Noodle scoffed, dragging herself off the floor. "It is NOT about HOW they got there, it's WHY you tossed them everywhere."  
She began to pick up some of the cans, hiding her frustration from the other man. Murdoc hesitantly began to help her, but his fingers couldn't even get a grip on the can he was trying to fumble with. He would grab it by the bottom for a second or two, then it would fall to the floor with a thunk.  
Noodle watched him intently as she put the cans back in the cupboard. She knew there was something seriously wrong with him, and she knew it wasn't just alcohol.  
"Murdoc?" She said to him hesitantly. "Do you need any..."  
"I'm fine," Murdoc replied hastily. He had finally gotten a firm grip on the can. Carefully as possible, he walked towards the cupboard and gingerly set the can next to the others.  
Noodle suddenly took ahold of Murdoc's arm with a firm grip. The pills instantly fell out of his palm and onto the floor.  
"I knew it," she said. "You're taking his medicine."  
Murdoc's face turned red, both from humiliation and foolishness. But he felt as if he couldn't just let them go to waste. He needed those pills because his life depended on them.  
Murdoc pried himself from Noodle's grip and greedily dove towards the pills like they were gold. Noodle immediately grabbed ahold of him by the neck with one arm and tried to force the pills out of Murdoc's hands with the other. She was strong, but Murdoc was much stronger.  
"You can't do this to yourself!" Noodle cried. "Please, I'm begging you!"  
She continued to relentlessly claw and kick at Murdoc, reaching for the pills locked in his grip. His vision was disoriented, yet he kept his focus on the blue pills in front of him. He continued to fight Noodle's forceful grip, which only grew stronger by the second.  
Don't give in. Take them.  
Noodle yelled his name over and over again as tears began to fill her eyes. She wouldn't give up.  
Murdoc knew he wasn't going to stand an unfair fight.  
Forcing Noodle onto he floor, he left her and bolted up the stairs, scrambling to get on his feet. Noodle followed close behind him, helplessly reaching for his legs. It felt as if the two of them were running in slow motion-if time itself could stop, this would have been that exact moment.  
Murdoc finally reached the bathroom at the top of the stairs, gasping desperately for air. He flung himself at the medicine cabinet so hard, his hands shattered the glass with one blow.  
Noodle watched in horror as Murdoc began to fling all of 2D's bottles out of the cabinet with blood dripping down both of his arms. Murdoc looked at her with an emotionless stare, his pupils expanding and dilating with every breath. His chest heaved and his blood dripped to the floor.  
"You can't do this," Noodle said. "Please, Murdoc, let me help you."  
The two of them faced each other in an unbearably tense silence. They didn't move. They didn't speak. They just looked into each other's pupils.  
"Please," Noodle repeated. "2D wouldn't want this."  
Murdoc felt as if there were a twig instead of his heart, and somebody had snapped it in half. He clutched his aching chest, glowering at Noodle's terrified face. He limped towards her with one of 2D's bottles clutched in his hand.  
"What do you know," Murdoc croaked. "About him? You never knew him: none of you did. I was the only one who ever knew what he wanted!"  
"Murdoc, please just-"  
"NO! YOU DON'T KNOW! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY I NEED THIS!" Murdoc held up the bottle, shaking it in front of Noodle's face. "THIS IS FOR HIM!"  
"2D would never want you to kill yourself!" Noodle shouted. She snatched the bottle and threw it down at the floor.  
As Murdoc desperately reached for more pills, Noodle grabbed ahold of the back of his neck, prying his body away from the cabinet. He kicked and snarled like a wild animal in a cage. With a final burst of energy, Noodle blindly threw Murdoc right into the bathtub.  
Murdoc screamed and thrashed as he became submerged in the water. It filled his mouth and nostrils, which were already burning from the perscriptions. He couldn't see or breathe, and the water nearly blinded him from his eyes being open. Once Murdoc finally managed to heave himself over the side of the bath, he coughed up the water, along with his own blood.  
Noodle stared at him in complete shock. She was terrified at the sight of Murdoc's blood and his uncontrollable shaking. She wanted to reach for his arms and pull him out, yet fear held her away from a distance.  
Murdoc finally stopped coughing and began to slowly push himself out of the bath. With his clothes and hair soaking wet, he shivered rapidly from his skin to his aching bones. His heart was beating out of his ribs and his vision grew weaker by the minute. Pills were spilled all around Murdoc's feet, and they laughed and taunted him for being too weak to reach for them.  
Another pair footsteps were faintly heard. They got louder and louder until the steps turned into heavy stomping.  
Noodle peered out of the bathroom door and burst into heavy sobs. "Russel-sama!" She cried.  
Russel, who was still clothed in his pub uniform, embraced Noodle and held her to his chest. She continued to weep against him with scattered breaths, not able to speak in between them.  
"I've got you, love. It's gonna be okay. I'm here," Russel said, stroking her hair. "I'm here."  
He saw Murdoc for a split second and knew exactly what had happened before he walked through the front door. The pills. Murdoc's stance. His soaked clothes. His breathing. It was all too obvious.  
Russel approached Murdoc with caution, looking him straight in the eye.  
"What did you do?"  
No response. He was only answered Murdoc's twitching and his rapid eye movement.  
Russel grabbed Murdoc by the shirt collar, shaking him like a rag doll. "Murdoc, answer me, godammit! What did you do?" He repeated.  
Again, Murdoc couldn't reply. He knew that something was trying to speak to him, and there was a voice moving its mouth and shouting his name, but all he saw was a giant black and white cloud.  
Russel's heart began to beat eratically and his palms grew slick with sweat. He shook Murdoc once more. "Can you hear me? How many pills did you take? Why aren't you answering me?!"  
Murdoc opened his mouth to speak, but only a single breath came out. His vision began to gradually clear up, revealing the cloud to be the man with cloudy eyes. He saw Noodle, kneeling on the floor with her hair unruly and her face covered in tears.  
It was all him.  
And for the first time in his life, Murdoc told himself to run. He broke free of Russel's grip, bolted down all the stairs, all the rooms, and burst out of the front door into the cold winter night.  
Murdoc kept on running until Wibbly Wobbly and the flat was completely shrouded in smog.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

The night was brisk, and barely cold enough for Murdoc's wet clothes to freeze against his skin. He passed by cars and strangers walking on the sidewalk who did not even give him a passing glance. And those who did notice him wondered why he was not wearing a jacket.

Once Murdoc had eventually found himself in the heart of London, its tall buildings shielded him from the cold wind. He continued to aimlessly wander the streets, crossing his arms tightly to stand against the wind. But despite the weather, Murdoc wasn't shaking. He just kept on running.

Once he had reached Big Ben, a strange feeling went suddenly went through him. It wasn't fear, yet Murdoc began to grow paranoid of the environment around him. The people, all of them were watching him with fear in their eyes. They knew what he had done, what he was becoming, and they just stared and pointed at him as he passed by.

He had to get out. He just had to.

Murdoc stopped walking. He couldn't get the sudden paranoia out of his head, no matter how hard he tried to make it go away. His eyes kept wandering to the cars on the street, with the blur of bright headlights and the sounds of asphalt crunching beneath the snow.

_"It's just..."_

_2D was cut off from Murdoc suddenly slamming on the car brakes. He firmly pressed down on the horn and flipped his middle finger at the car in front of them._

_"Get your arse off the road, you fuckin' moron!" Murdoc shouted as he continued to honk his horn._

_2D sat in the passenger seat, giving Murdoc a scoff. "You know he can't hear you, right?" He asked._

_Murdoc rolled his eyes as the car that nearly rolled into them skidded its tires and drove away. "I just like to see him look intimidated," he said. "See, he's already gone. It's like it never happened, right?"_

_2D shrugged. "Yeah. Right."_

There was something about this intersection, the exact place where Murdoc was standing that made him immobile. He looked across the road at the crosswalk sign, which began to count down as a crowd of people made their way across the road.

15,

14,

13,

_"I can't help but think, Murdoc, what's gonna happen when people start asking about us, what are we gonna say to them?"_

_"We'll just distract them with an unfinished B-side."_

"Sir, are you lost? Do you need help, or a cab perchance?"

Someone had noticed Murdoc standing still amongst the crowd. But he didn't hear what the stranger had said to him. His eyes were kept focused on the numbers.

12,

11,

10,

9,

_"You know what: story closed. End of discussion," Murdoc retorted._

_"12 years, Murdoc! 12 years you've been keeping this under your own name, and it's like you don't even care!"_

"Sir? Can you hear me?"

8,

7,

6,

_"But,"_

5,

4,

_"All I'm trying to say, Murdoc, is that,"_

3,

2,

_"I just want you to-"_

1.

Big Ben began to ring and send its chimes looming throughout the city. The stranger looked at his watch, then at Murdoc, who had finally began to move from where he stood. With concern, the stranger followed him as he slowly walked towards the passing cars.

This was where it happened. This was where his life was cut short, and where the world came crashing down.

"Please, let me help you. I'll call someone. Do you have any family or friends I can contact?" the stranger urged.

Murdoc, with his head hung down, glanced at the stranger out of the corner of his eye. For a brief moment, they looked at each other as the bells continued to chime.

"It's too late," Murdoc said to the stranger. "He's gone."  


	21. Chapter Twenty

_Murdoc opened his eyes and saw nothing. He couldn't move._

_He was buried alive._

_His fingertips brushed against a wooden surface, as his heart pounded in his ears. It was a coffin, or at least something that kept him confined and shrouded entirely in darkness._

_"Help! Help me!" Murdoc panicked, but as soon as he spoke, the wooden coffin disappeared._

_He found himself writhing and surrounded by cold soil. The soil got into his eyes, then clogged his nostrils. Murdoc opened his mouth to breathe, but the soil made its way past the throat until his entire body was filled with the substance. It was inevitable that he was going to die at any given second, yet the pain Murdoc was experiencing was infinite and grueling. The seconds felt like minutes as his lungs burned and collapsed from the pressure being forced upon him, and as his eyes stung ruthlessly from the soil entering his sockets._

_Murdoc used a force of strength to kick his way out from the ground, but he found himself sinking lower and lower from every move he made._

_This was the end. Murdoc took one last dying breath until his heart stopped._

_Stopped._

_Stopped._

_The soil stopped pouring into him. But Murdoc was still alive._

_He still couldn't move or see, yet the pain that had enveloped him was beginning to fade away. The soil poured out of his mouth, his lungs, and his eye sockets. Murdoc lied still for a moment, trying to process what was happening to him. Was he alive? Was he dead? Was he going to be trapped in the soil for the rest of his days? He pondered these questions, noticing that he had no heartbeat. There was only dead silence._

_Suddenly, without warning, the soil began to move again, gently falling on Murdoc's head like snowfall. There was a noise above him, a digging sound that got louder and closer until a small sliver of light appeared right above Murdoc's nose. A single hand from above the soil broke the surface, making the sliver explode into a burst of daylight._

_Murdoc laid fully submerged in the ground with his body exposed to the world above him. Murdoc sat up in his grave, looking directly at the tall figure that stood towering above him. That familiar, smiling figure with the gap in his teeth and eyes as dark as cinders._

_"Take my hand. You're safe now," 2D said to him._

_He knelt down next to the grave and outstretched his hand towards Murdoc. Those eyes. That smile. Those fingers that were outstretched, desperately waiting and beckoning Murdoc to grasp a hold of them. A voice in his head cried out in joy and desperation, telling him: "What are you waiting for? Do it!", yet Murdoc's motion was slow and prolonged._

_He took 2D's hand and was instantly pulled up from the ground. The cemetery was illuminated by soft sunlight, just pleasantly bright enough for Murdoc's eyes to adjust to the environment. There was no snow on the ground, but was replaced by soft grass and dotted with marigolds. Murdoc and 2D eyed the spectacle, with their fingers still intertwined._

_"Murdoc," 2D said. "Is everything alright?"_

_Murdoc turned his gaze towards the singer. He was just as lovely, just as beautiful as he remembered him. This exact moment, being in his presence was enough to bring Murdoc to tears. And once they started, they did not stop. 2D caved to the ground as Murdoc flung himself onto him, shaking heavily with shattering sobs. The ground beneath them seemed to move in rhythm with Murdoc's cries of both joy and deep sorrow. 2D wrapped his arms around the other man, instantly providing a wave of comforting warmth that only made Murdoc cry harder than before._

_"It's not your fault," 2D murmured. "I forgive you."_

_Murdoc gritted his teeth, forcing his sobs into his throat. "N-no, don't say it...I should be in your place. You didn't deserve it, you didn't-"_

_"It was an accident."_

_"And I c-can't take you back!" Murdoc stammered between his tears. "Don't you see? This was all me! I can't live with myself anymore! They can't either! Nobody can!"_

_"That's not true...I deserved to die, Murdoc."_

_The marigolds began to wither and shrivel to a dark brown. The sun became shrouded in dark clouds, turning 2D and Murdoc into shadows. Murdoc could no longer feel the warm embrace. His arms became transparent, as well as the rest of his body. 2D was still solid, however. Behind him, Russel and Noodle suddenly appeared. Murdoc stood up in complete shock, scrambling back from the figures in front of him._

_"It's not real," he uttered to himself._

_"Real?" Russel snorted with a forced laugh. "When has anything been real to you? Don't be stupid, Murdoc."_

_"What you did was unforgivable," Noodle chimed in. "We wonder why you're still here. It should be you in that grave."_

_2D beamed at the two of them, then took a demeaning step towards Murdoc. His warm smile had suddenly turned cold and venomous, his charm becoming crude and heartless. Murdoc tried to step back, but his feet became stuck in a mud pile that had formed around his ankles._

_"We know you didn't mean for this to happen," 2D sneered with a small chuckle. Russel and Noodle followed 2D in the same fashion. "But maybe it's for the best. You can find a new singer, better and much less...empty-headed as myself. And attractive. You always said my looks had an advantage...What do you think, Russel?"_

_Russel pondered the question for a moment, then looked at Murdoc. "It's his fault your life was cut off short. Is it even worth making more trouble?"_

_Noodle nodded in agreement. "You are right, Russel. We need to end this ourselves."_

_2D, Noodle and Russel lunged for Murdoc, grabbing him by the legs and arms. Lifting him out of the mud, they dragged his body back towards the hole in the ground._

_"Let me go!" Murdoc cried. "2D! 2D!"_

_The three of them started to laugh, mocking as Murdoc tried to escape from their grasp. They approached the hole, dangling Murdoc's body over the black abyss. The sky continued to grow cloudier and darker, as it began to rain rotten apples around them. From above Murdoc's face, 2D looked down, giving him a small wink._

_"Sweet dreams, Faceache."_

_Murdoc was let go. He fell down, down into the hole with the laughs of his band pounding mercilessly in his head. He covered his ears, but they were still there, taunting him, torturing him with each second that he continued to fall._

_Murdoc felt his back hit the ground with an enormous thump, and the laughter stopped._

~~~

Murdoc awoke with a scream that rattled the walls around him. He shot up in the untidy bed covered in cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably as his chest heaved and repulsed every second.

He clutched at himself: his arms, his legs, his chest, to see if he was still alive. He had a heartbeat, at which Murdoc began to calm down. But he was still surrounded by darkness, just like in the dream.

He switched on the lamp by his bedside, revealing the unkempt mess of his motel room. He was alive. Murdoc's heart continued to palpitate rapidly, making him feel sick down to his stomach. He snatched a half-empty bottle of vodka on his nightstand and swigged it down his throat. Within a matter of seconds, Murdoc went straight to the bathroom and vomited into the tub.

He was alive, yet his body was plagued with fear and sickness.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

Even though Murdoc had been living by himself for some time, each passing day was as unbearable and endless as they were before.

They always started in wee hours of the morning after a nightmare, continuous flashbacks, or just simply from another restless night of tossing and turning in his sheets. Every morning was different, yet his sickness cycle was the exact same; It started with a pounding headache at 4 A.M., followed by a hit of nausea, which lingers in Murdoc's throat as he runs to the bathroom and vomits in the toilet for an hour or more. After he tastes the stomach acid in his mouth, he washes it down with a cup of crummy water and starts a pot of coffee.

Just before sunup, Murdoc sits in his bed with coffee in hand and watches whatever happens to be on television. If there is nothing that interests him, he goes down to the motel's continental breakfast. That is, the breakfast is always nothing but some boxes of frozen waffles, an old toaster, a spoiled carton of milk, some Styrofoam plates and a box of plastic forks.

Once Murdoc has eaten a light breakfast, he steps outside of the motel to watch the sunrise and take his morning smoke. This particular motel room he had been renting was anything but luxurious, but it was as far away from London and from Wibbly Wobbly as he could be. Murdoc had no vehicle or a mate to hitchhike with, but his privacy was his own and his alone.

Winter was approaching its final days and slowly transitioning into a very early spring. Even though there were patches of dirty snow on the ground and in the parking lot, small tufts of brown grass were starting to emerge from beneath. It was an in-between period where the air was unpleasantly cold, but grew humid with moisture. It was March, and Murdoc had left the flat just after January.

Or was it February?

He didn't know. He couldn't bear to stand the thought of that night.

That night. That goddamn night with the pills. Drops of water falling from the motel's roof hit his hand, reminding him of the cold bath water he was nearly drowned in. Noodle's terrified pleas for help still rung in his ears. Murdoc took another drag, just to get the thought out of his head.

Inhale. Exhale.

Murdoc let out a huge, hacking cough and sputtered his cigarette smoke. He inhaled a sharp breath of fresh air, beating at his chest to loosen up his lungs. Once the coughing fit had stopped, he tried again.

Inhale. Exhale...

_"I'm sick of motel food, Muds."_

_"What, you got another stomachache?"_

_"Yeah. 'S disgusting to be havin' the same motel food everyday. My meds are actin' up cuz of them."_

_Murdoc stood leaning over the edge of the motel banister, calmly smoking a cigarette. It was a damp, gloomy morning and it was the perfect setting for his mood. Murdoc hated early mornings, especially the ones where he was feeling ill himself._

_The sight of 2D's pale face and droopy eyelids was enough to make Murdoc squemish. The singer lazily propped himself on the banister next to Murdoc massaging his temples and running his hand through his bed-ridden hair._

_"You can always go back to bed," Murdoc said._

_"Our room smells like cat piss," 2D groaned. "I need some fresh air."_

_"It won't do you good to stand out here."_

_"I'm fine," 2D pouted._

_Murdoc frowned as he shivered and rubbed at goosebumps forming along his neck. It was pathetic, how stubborn and childish 2D was acting, yet Murdoc found himself feeling sympathy towards him. Nothing but months of traveling, continental flights, hotels, motels and fast food was enough to make anyone ill to the point of exhaustion._

_Murdoc gently wrapped his arms around 2D's shaking body, rubbing his hands up and down along the singer's arms. 2D glanced at him, surprised at the sudden act of affection, but responded by resting his head on Murdoc's shoulder._

_It was moments like these that Murdoc desired the most without fully realizing it himself. Silence. Calm. Peace. Just the simple motion of 2D's breathing patterns sent him into a content state of mind. Any miserable environment could disappear, or remain frozen in time with a single gesture. As much as Murdoc wanted to show himself to be the dominant one, he couldn't help but shudder when 2D's fingers brushed his own._

_"Once this damn tour is over, we're going straight back to Kong and taking a 10-year vacation," Murdoc said. "No music, no tours, no nothing. We're going full AWOL."_

_"You're just saying that because you fuckin' hate tours," 2D replied hastily._

_"Well, so do you," Murdoc replied._

_"There's no use to bicker 'bout it."_

_"Then what should we talk about instead?" 2D watched as Murdoc's cigarette smoke escaped his lips and drifted into the mist. For as long as he knew him, 2D always knew that a cigarette always meant that he was thinking about something, or trying to get a thought out of his head for that manner._

_"Muds?"_

_"I'm listening," Murdoc said without looking at him._

_"Are we really gonna go AWOL...ya know, like you said?"_

_Murdoc let out a scoff, trying not to smile at the question. "I was kidding, dumb arse. If we go on tour for another year, we can at least try to get enough profit to pay off those bloody studio bills."_

_"I guess so," 2D said. "But, Murdoc, if you think about it, and I mean REALLY think about it, leaving would probably be a good thing."_

_Murdoc raised his eyebrows, giving 2D a perplexed look. "What do you mean by that?"_

_2D shrugged, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, Muds. This band is great: the tours, the music, travelin', Russ, Noodle, the fans...I wouldn't give it up for anythin' else, but...I just get sick of it after a while."_

_"It's called road-sickness," Murdoc said. "I know how it is."_

_"Yeah, but that's not the point."_

_"Then what is?"_

_2D withdrew a breath, turning his face away from the other man. "When we separated last...I kind of missed you."_

_Sweat started to bead on Murdoc's forehead. "Really?"_

_"And since you brought us back together, I was wonderin'...well, what it'd be like if we went AWOL and had a life of our own. Just the two of us."_

_Murdoc nearly dropped his cigarette off the banister upon hearing those words. His hands fumbled to reach it as it nearly fell out of his reach, causing him to lean on top of the banister. When he caught the cigarette, he found himself losing his balance, his nose parallel to the ground below him. While this was happening, 2D started to laugh in amusement at the sight of Murdoc's feat._

_"Hangin' tight, Muds?" 2D snickered._

_"Don't just stand there, Dents! Help me down!"_

_Murdoc exclaimed._

_2D continued to watch from a distance. "I dunno. You look kinda funny. I should get Russ to take a picture of you."_

_"GET ME DOWN! NOW!!!"_

_"Okay, okay, just calm down. I gotcha'." 2D approached Murdoc from behind, and wrapped his arms around his torso. For someone who lacked upper-body strength, he used a great portion of his energy to hoist Murdoc's backside down from the banister. 2D's legs were nearly giving away, but he didn't want to let go of him. Murdoc could tell, just by the way 2D was taking longer than usual to lower his body to the ground._

_"Any day now..."Murdoc mumbled._

_"I kind of like this position, actually," 2D replied. "Your back is nice."_

_But 2D did eventually let go of Murdoc's torso, only for his hands to make their way to his posterior. Murdoc shuddered, feeling his groin grow warm. He felt a smile come back to his lips as 2D continued to fondle him._

_"So...about that place of ours," Murdoc said. "Where should it be?"_

_"I heard Honolulu's pretty nice. Or perhaps Jamaica?" 2D replied dreamily._

_Murdoc let out a deep chuckle and bit his bottom lip when 2D firmly clenched one of his asscheeks. "We're already sharing a motel room for starters. Isn't that good enough for you?"_

_"No. This place fucking sucks," 2D said._

_He approached Murdoc from the front, looking down towards his face. Murdoc wasn't flustered, but he knew that what he said was possibly pushing the situation. 2D took Murdoc's hand in his own, feeling the rhythm of their combined pulses._

_"Tours don't last forever," Murdoc uttered. "We might as well make the best of the time we have."_

_"Are you talking now or later?" 2D asked._

_"Tonight. After our performance. How's about it?"_

_2D smiled, planting a kiss on Murdoc's forehead. "If you say so."_

Murdoc's cigarette had been burnt to the stub. He didn't know how much time had passed since he started, but why would it matter? Murdoc had all the time in the world, and one cigarette after the other kept his days occupied. He lit another one, only to have it immediately burnt out by a gust of wind. When it started to pour, Murdoc hastily took the cigarette in his motel room.

He sat down on his bed, and brought the lighter to the tip. Inhale. Exhale.

_Inhale. Exhale._

_The rhythms of Murdoc and 2D's breathing beat in time with each other with every motion they made. When they made love, it was all about coordination and body language. Whatever Murdoc did to 2D, he would repeat the actions until they repeated in sync._

_Murdoc slipped his tongue on 2D's neck, sliding it back and forth like an ice cube on a smooth counter. 2D's Adam's apple bobbed and pulsated, letting out his sweet moans and shuddering breaths. Once Murdoc's serpent tongue had made its way down to 2D's chest, the sliding motion continued in conversation to their bodies grinding and giving off more heat as seconds passed._

_"Right there, Muds," 2D groaned. "That's the spot..."_

_"I know," Murdoc said. His breath was warm against 2D's exposed torso, making it harder for him not to come at the wrong time. It was Murdoc's strategic way of making 2D beg for more, squeezing out every last drop of pleasure he had for the both of them._

_Inhale. Exhale. Indulge. That was the pattern._

_"Fuck..." 2D murmured._

_"Oh, don't get too vulgar yet," Murdoc said. His lips brushed against the inside of 2D's thighs, as he lifted the singer's legs on his shoulders. Murdoc's head slowly made his way down, planting deep kisses on 2D until his mouth reached the foreskin._

_He slipped his tongue on 2D's tip, creating a slow, circular motion. 2D bit the top of his lip, holding back the urge to release too soon. Sweat began to bead his neck, as he grabbed a tuft of Murdoc's oily hair strands. Forcing his head down further, Murdoc's mouth enveloped the entirety of 2D's dick with a swift motion._

_"Gnngh!..shit, Muds!"_

_2D's groans grew louder, and his grip on Murdoc's hair became more forceful with every climax he held in. Murdoc continued to blow him, grunting as 2D's legs wrapped tightly against his back. But foreplay was too simple for what was about to come. Murdoc released his mouth from 2D, wiping the drool from around his lips and chin. He looked up at 2D who was neck-deep in his own pleasure and using his legs to force him closer._

_"Hasty, huh?" Murdoc said with a smirk. He leaned for a small kiss, only to have it turn into a deep lip-locked war of tongues. Their chests shuddered against each other, combining a pair of skipping heartbeats. The bed springs beneath them squeaked and squealed, as their groins bumped._

_"Finish it off...please! M-muds-!" 2D cried out._

_"Hngh...you sure you're-ready?"_

_Murdoc said. He let out an exasperated moan when 2D pressed his lips along his jawline._

_"I don't care! J-just do it!-Aah!..."_

_The reply was enough for words. Murdoc gave 2D one last kiss before backing up his body towards the edge of the bed. His boner was stiff as a board, which was perfect timing before it would grow soft again. Biting his lip in anticipation, Murdoc slowly slid himself inside 2D, which entered with little effort._

_"S-shit..." Murdoc exhaled. "Okay...here we go..."_

_Murdoc pushed once, already feeling 2D's climax approaching, along with his own. The motion started out slow, then grew faster and more intense with each stroke. One thrust followed the other, one groan followed another louder groan, one squeak followed a series of louder ones, one small kiss turned into two, three, four, five..._

_"Fuck! F-fuck, Mud-Aaaahh!!"_

_2D's moaning and rapid jerking shook the headboard, slapping against the wall every second. Murdoc bit down on 2D's chest, covering him with hickeys and uncontrollable saliva drips. His breaths grew heavy, until they too were replaced with raspy groans._

_"St-Stu-STU!! OH...FUUCK!"_

_It was done and over within seconds. Murdoc and 2D had reached their climaxes at the same time, covering each other and the bed sheets with their own fluids. Murdoc pulled himself out and threw his back against the bed, gasping and sweating for air. 2D did the same, except his head collided firmly with the wooden headboard. They panted and wheezed, their hands trying to find each other as if they had gone blind. When Murdoc's fumbled fingertips eventually found 2D's leg, he hoisted himself upright. only to find himself falling in the same position as before. 2D retreated his spot and perched his chest on top of Murdoc._

_Once they were close and comfortable, Murdoc took the singer's right hand and pressed the fingers against his lips. One by one, he kissed the fingers delicately, from the nails to his knuckles. He did the same to 2D's left hand, in the same fashion as before. Gentle was not an adjective to describe Murdoc in the slightest, but 2D knew to think otherwise in this moment._

_"Murdoc...can I tell you somethin'?" 2D said._

_"Let me kiss you first."_

_And so they did. When their lips separated, 2D saw that Murdoc was crying._

_"Please don't cry," 2D said. "I need to tell you-"_

_But once Murdoc started crying, he couldn't stop. He covered his eyes, trying to get the tears to stop, but he couldn't. They poured down his cheeks, until they touched the bed sheets._

_"I'm sorry-I can't-" Murdoc said between his sobs. "I can't..."_

_2D hugged Murdoc close, letting him sob against his shoulder. They held each other, rocking side to side as 2D began rub his back and hum to him._

_"It's okay, Murdoc. I'm here."_

Murdoc wasn't sure when he had started crying, but once he did, he couldn't stop himself. He threw himself down on the shag carpet, clutching the strands with shaky fists. His crying turned into mournful sobs, that were loud enough to flicker the lights in the room.

"I'm sorry!" Murdoc cried out. "Come back! Come back, I'm begging you!" the tears flowed down his face faster, dripping onto the carpet. Murdoc sat up, looking towards the ceiling. "I'm sorry...come back...please..."

His head remained fixed above him, as tears continued to fall from his eyes. There was dead silence, except for his ragged breathing that filled the room. Murdoc realized he was still holding his cigarette. It had run out, and he discovered the ashes that had fallen formed a trail to where he was sitting.

"I'm sorry..."


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

Every day, when the light of day transitioned into darkness, Murdoc could notice more about the motel room during the early hours of night. It was around this time he was always more awake, more alert, and overall, more aware of his own surroundings.

The first thing he brought his attention to after closing his window shade turning on the lights were the cracks in the ceiling. There were dozens, if not hundreds of them scattered above him in every direction, length, width, if they were curvy, straight, or fragmented. Some were interconnected while most were still taking form in the most unreachable corners. Murdoc would often lay on his bed, close his eyes and pinpoint the cracks from memory.

It was an undying task that helped Murdoc pass the time, yet he could not stand the silence.

Silence led to thinking, which led to contemplating, uncertainty and paranoia that seemed to swell in his mind and not go away once they appeared.

Tonight was one of those nights. Murdoc told himself, over and over again that he was fine. He was in the right place, away from his troubles and those who brought him down to the point of no return. Away from Russel, Noodle, his own band mates, who still had not made any attempt to contact or find him. He imagined they were much happier now that he was gone from their lives. Rachel, David, those conceited people who had no respect for him, or for anyone else. He was alone, and he was fine.

"Don't be an arse," Murdoc said to the ceiling. "What else were you supposed to do?"

He sat himself up, rubbing at his tired eyes and fixing his focus at another unworldly area of the room. It was the wall corner next to the door, covered in a strange yellow mold that seemed to grow larger each day. Murdoc supposed it was water leakage, but he never bothered to call for maintenance. The wall itself, however was a mustard color that seemed to blend itself with the mold.

_"Would you be happy here with me?"_

_The bedside clock read 3 A.M. The rest of the motel was asleep, except for one dimly lit room with one, no, two restless souls. As the night tolled on, they talked and whispered within their walls, isolated and safe from the world outside their 'Do Not Disturb' sign. They locked themselves in, seeing each other as their own worlds._

_"Did you say somethin', Murdoc?"_

_Murdoc kept his focus on the wallpaper, sipping his fourth or fifth glass of bourbon. He glanced in the mirror in front of him, catching a glimpse of 2D brushing his teeth in he bathroom. There was a moment of silence, except for the sound of 2D's toothbrush. He gargled the last of his toothpaste and spit into the sink. 2D shut off the bathroom light, his reflection getting larger as he stepped towards Murdoc._

_2D slipped his arms around Murdoc's waist, leaning his head on his back. Murdoc instantly relaxed with the sensation of his body warmth, softly humming as 2D planted his lips on the back of his neck._

_"Talk to me." 2D said._

_"About what?" Murdoc asked._

_"About what you said."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about," Murdoc uttered at the wall._

He pondered for a moment, resting his chin on his hand. "...Hold on, it was more like-"

_"I said you'll ruin your breath if you drink the bourbon."_

_2D paused for a moment. He lifted his head to look into the mirror, looking at himself and Murdoc. There was a strange tension that passed between them, that made Murdoc's eyes dilate and palms grow warm with sweat. His face grew pale as 2D kept his attention solely on him._

_"I wanna lie down," Murdoc said._

_"But-"_

_Murdoc peeled himself away from 2D, grabbing his arm and dragging themselves away from the mirror. "I'm tired. Come to bed with me."_

_Murdoc averted his focus from the wall and walked towards his unkempt bed. He lifted the covers, shifting in and making extra space next to him. His pupils darted around the room, flinching at every creak and whistle that echoed within the room._

_"You don't seem tired," 2D said as he sat himself in the bed next to Murdoc. "Are you alright?"_

_"Yes. Turn that light off, will you?"_

_2D nodded hesitantly, reaching for the beside lamp and switching it down. The two of them leaned on each other in the room's darkness, listening to each other breathe. Murdoc's breathing, however, was more rapid and palpitated than 2D's. He flinched once more when he heard a single creak above the ceiling. 2D felt him jump slightly, then try to relax again. He knew there was something terribly wrong._

_2D took a deep breath before saying his name. "...M-Murdoc?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Is this...about earlier?"_

_"I don't know."_

"I don't know who I am. That's all there is to be said-Dammit, I never told him that. Or did I?"

Murdoc rested on his back, running his fingers atop the surface of his bed sheets. His heart continued to pound recklessly against his chest, making it more and more difficult to breathe.

The noises. They were everywhere. Every creak, groan and bump jolted Murdoc's senses when he was starting to calm down, and made him more anxious than before. The cycle was relentless, and continued to repeat itself on Murdoc every minute.

"What did I tell him..."

Another creak. Murdoc gripped the sheets, forcing his chest down with his hand. Inhale. Exhale.

_Inhale. Exhale._

_"Shh...Just breathe, Murdoc. It's gonna be alright."_

_Another bump in the room next to them made Murdoc's stomach lurch. 2D sat up, looking down on the other man, slowly stroking his hair._

_"D...Don't leave," Murdoc rasped._

_"I'm right here," 2D said. "I won't leave you."_

_Murdoc gulped, reaching for 2D's hand. He took it, pressing 2D's fingers against his heart._

_"Just breathe, Murdoc."_

_Inhale. Exhale._

He could hear everything, but dare not open his eyes.

Murdoc's hand remained planted firmly against his beating heart, as if he was trying to force his chest to go down. He tried to see 2D's image, just as he could always remember it. He closed his eyes tight, then tighter, visualizing his hair, his smile, the way he spoke...

But he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

The rumble of the taxi's motor vibrated through Murdoc's body as the vehicle smoothly made its way through the desolate outskirts of London. 

It was late afternoon, just an hour after he had checked out of his motel room, and his restlessness made him feel as if it had happened days ago. There was a hostile-like feeling that ran through him, mostly from the small size of the cab and the occasional eye contact he would make with the driver in front of him. If there were two things that Murdoc was the most afraid of, they were eyes and moving vehicles.

"212," the taxi driver said. 

Murdoc lifted his head from the back of his seat. His stomach immediately curled at the sight of the flat's front door.  _His_ front door. This was  _his_ home, but it looked so much more  _dead_ and  _dark_ compared to before. He remained seated in the taxi, just staring up at the flat until the driver cleared his throat.

"You sure this is the right place?" he asked irritably. "Unless you want to pay more than £40." 

Murdoc glanced at the driver, shaking his head. "It's the right place."

He reached into his pocket, taking out a pile of crumpled pounds and handing them to the driver. "And good day to you."

Murdoc grabbed his the rest of his belongings, exited the taxi and watched it drive away until it was shrouded in fog.

He looked up at the sky, breathing in the familiar air, tainted by familiar paper mill fumes and the rain of early spring. It was all too dreamlike, no matter how hard Murdoc tried to make the environment real.

How long had it been? Where was he? Where was his mind? 

This was his home, yet Murdoc was completely lost. 

He walked towards the front steps, feeling as if he were moving in slow motion. He felt his hands and legs start to shake as he approached the door, which seemed to drift away as he reached for the handle. The exact moment Murdoc's fingertips grazed the cold piece of metal, he stopped mid-motion.

There was still a chance to turn back, to forget about them and leave forever. This was just the same as all the other times Murdoc decided to leave because he knew he would eventually return to them again. It would be that bittersweet moment of reunion, seeing faces he had not seen in years, forgetting why they had split years before.

But this time, there would be one less familiar face to see. One less reason to return to the place he hoped he would never see again.

Murdoc softly knocked on the door. He waited, quivering as he stood in the cold rain. The door loomed over him, making him feel as if he was shrinking on the spot. Murdoc clutched at his chest when the doorknob began to turn. 

When the door opened, Murdoc nearly did not recognize Noodle's face. She looked very different, almost younger than the night he had left. She gawked at him as if she were looking at a ghost.

  "You came back," Noodle said.

 "Yeah...I'm back," Murdoc answered. "And I'm sorry."

Murdoc expected her to shut the door in his face, or at least back away from him from fear. But instead, Noodle burst into tears and ran to hug him. Murdoc remained still with shock as she held him close, trembling both of them with her sobs.

"Where were you? We looked everywhere," Noodle cried, as her voice was muffled by Murdoc's jacket. 

"Noodle..." Murdoc uttered. "I'm so sorry-"

"Muds?"

Murdoc looked up, seeing Russel approach the door entryway, his mouth agape with uncertainty. He too stared at Murdoc like a ghost. He tried to say something, yet no sound escaped from his lips. The barrier between the two of them still had not been broken, and each passing second only made it stronger.

 "You must be mad, coming here like this," Russel said to him. 

"I guess you could say that," Murdoc replied. "And you're right. You've always been right."

Russel frowned. "The fuck is that supposed to mean? Where in the hell did you go?"

"Does that really matter, Russ?" 

"Um,  _yes,_ it does," Russel demanded. "How's about you come inside and explain?"

Noodle let herself go from Murdoc as he hesitantly stepped inside the flat. She followed behind him and Russel shut the door. A smell of fresh laundry was the first sense to hit Murdoc, which caught him completely by surprise. He could recall when the rooms smelled like cigarette smoke and stale coffee, especially in the kitchen. He also noticed the clean floors, the rugs shaken and leaving no trace of dirt or dust. There were no beer cans or cigarette stubs scattered along the stairs. 

It was an entirely new place that made Murdoc think about the Pot's tidy home in Hertfordshire. He wondered if David and Rachel had been here recently. 

Russel picked up a mug half-full of black coffee from the table and brought it to his lips. He took a large gulp and firmly slammed the mug back down on the surface. 

"Alright. Start talkin'," Russel said. He sat down at the table, leaning his weight against the back of his chair. 

Murdoc sighed, sitting himself down in the chair across from the drummer. "There's not much to say except that I left. I didn't go far, but the room I was staying in was the cheapest I could find."

"A room? Like a hotel?"

"A motel. Like an extended stay."

Russel shifted in his chair, making a loud rumble on the floor beneath him. "So you stayed in a motel for two-no, three months without saying anything?"

Three months. Murdoc's fists clenched just at the thought of how long he truly had been in that room. 

"I knew you wanted me gone that night," Murdoc said. "But I'm back. We're fine now. Is there anything else you need to know?"

Russel flared his nostrils at him.  "Are you kidding me? We're not 'fine'! Do you have any fucking idea how many days and nights we searched for you?! We went through every street, every pub, hotel, and every alley in London, and there was nothin'. Nobody knew who you were, or even seen you that night."

Murdoc stayed silent, gritting his teeth so hard that his mouth began to ache.

"So when we had no luck, we tried Hertfordshire," Russel continued. "Neither of 2D's parents knew what we were talking about, but they agreed to help us look. That was about a month ago, Muds. We didn't know anywhere else to turn unless you'd somehow flown overseas, or possibly..."

"I'd  _what_ , Russel?" Murdoc demanded. "Died? Tried to kill myself?"

Russel withdrew his breath, feeling a lump form in his stomach. "I...Murdoc, no, that's not what...if you'd just list-"

Russel froze when Murdoc slammed his fist down on the table. "I was near close to death if that's what you're trying to say! Why don't you just tell me, Russ? Go ahead!"

Noodle, who had been standing off in the distance during their conversation looked up in fear as Russel suddenly stood up and flipped the kitchen table entirely on its side. All of its contents, including the coffee mug, spilled onto the floor in front of and on top of Murdoc. 

"I AM NOT GONNA SIT HERE AND GO THROUGH THIS GUILT TRIP!" Russel exploded. "YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF, EVEN AFTER ALL WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO! YOU HURT HIS PARENTS, YOU HURT ME, YOU HURT MY NOODLE, AND NOW YOU'RE HURTING YOURSELF! IT'S BEEN MONTHS, MURDOC! YOU NEED TO MOVE PAST THIS!" 

"You haven't done anything at all, you fucking bastard," Murdoc said hastily. "None of you have! It's like you're trying to forget he existed! He's still here! And now you want me gone, just like him!"

"You're in denial, Murdoc," Russel said. "The grief, your isolation, they're messing with your head!"

Murdoc picked up the mug that had fallen on the floor and threw it back down, shattering it to pieces. "JUST SAY IT! TELL ME IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!" 

"RUSSEL-SAMA, MURDOC-SAMA, BOTH OF YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" 

Russel and Murdoc immediately stopped. There was a certain tone in Noodle's voice, the way her voice cracked that made their argument cease. Murdoc saw tears stream down her face, seeing an expression that had finally broken beyond her limit.

"You can't do this anymore," Noodle croaked. "It will not help. Please stop this fighting. Murdoc needs to heal, and  _you_ , Russel, need to give him time."

Russel sighed. "But, Noodle-"

"No. Buts." Noodle intervened. "Russel, living room. Murdoc, upstairs. Do not speak to each other until tomorrow. I will make sure of it."

With tears still dripping from her eyes, she stood shooting Russel and Murdoc defeating stares. She waited, feeling a cold draft go through the kitchen. There was a certain emotion of guilt that went through Murdoc, one that could only go away if he did what Noodle asked of him. He was the first one to leave the kitchen and go upstairs just as he was told. 

~~~

As much as he wanted to go into 2D's room, Murdoc could not bring himself to approach the door. 

What was previously a sanctuary, a place of refuge for him, was now a place of mystery and uncertainty. It was almost like a door in a mansion that was forbidden to enter, or that could not be unlocked unless you had a certain key. Murdoc's fingers gently brushed the brass handle, then withdrew his hand as if it was red-hot. 

"Why don't you go in?"

Murdoc jumped at the sound of Noodle's voice behind him. He turned to see her peeking from the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall next to her. Murdoc sighed, stepping back from the door.

Noodle moved a single strand of hair from her face, remaining unmoved from where she stood. She knew Murdoc was not a stranger, yet she had never known him in a way that made her feel like one herself.

"I would not know what to do if you had never come back," she said.

"What did you do with the pills?" Murdoc asked.

Noodle stepped up from the top stair, hesitantly making her way towards Murdoc. "I...I threw them out." 

"All of them?" 

"Yes. All of them."

Murdoc smiled, the first time he had in what seemed like an eternity. "Good. They took up too much cabinet space," He gave Noodle a firm squeeze on her shoulder, making her tear up once more. 

"And Noodle," he said. "I don't think I could ever live alone again."  

 

 

 

 


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

Fear was an emotion that had controlled a majority of Murdoc's life.

From his abusive childhood, many years in various prisons, and being isolated on a deserted island, none of them compared to the distress he was currently experiencing now that he was home. For Murdoc, however, his home was not home at all. He was living in a realistic, lucid dream and was telling himself he would eventually wake up back in the motel room. 

It was as if the past and the present were being melded together to form a sort of toxic, warped state of being that was neither real or imaginary. Murdoc's own flashbacks were interfering with what he was seeing in front of him. Everything from the daylight pouring through the windows to the dust on the floor was all in his own head. The parts of the flat that were dark seemed to be darker. In other words, Murdoc had grown to be fearful of a lot of things. 

And out of all the things that scared him the most, his worst fear was sitting in the room right next to him.

Russel was known to be a calm and gentle individual, and Murdoc knew that for as long he had known him. However, he also knew the side of him that nobody would ever think of seeing. Murdoc was still shaken from Russel's outburst the day before, although he knew it was bound to happen the second he walked through the front door. Unpredictable as his behavior was, Murdoc knew that now was the right time to set things straight, no matter what the consequences would be.

Murdoc could not run any longer. It was time to face the fears that had taken control of his life.

Russel was still in the living room, although Murdoc did not know whether he had even left after Noodle told him to stay in there. He was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper next to the morning light. He looked so calm and content, the exact opposite of his mood the day before. 

Murdoc leaned against the wall opposite of the room. What was he going to say? A simple 'Hello?' Should he just walk in there like nothing had happened at all? Should he knock on the wall or tap his foot?

With these thoughts rambling through his head, Murdoc straightened up his posture and took in a huge breath. He took one step into the room, accidentally letting the floorboards beneath his foot creak. 

"Hey, Muds."

Murdoc froze where he stood. Russel looked up from his newspaper, his eyebrows immediately rising at the sight of the other man. The morning light that glistened through the window's thin drapes seemed to drift across the living room, giving Murdoc a sort of radiance all along his body. While the rest of the room was dim and shadowed, the natural sunlight hovered only on Murdoc and Russel.

"You're up earlier than usual," Russel said. 

Murdoc cleared his throat, trying to keep his nervousness down to a minimum. "Er, yeah, I guess I am."

Russel nodded his head, returning to his newspaper. Murdoc fidgeted where he stood outside the living room entrance, rubbing the sweat that was starting to form on his neck. For what seemed like 10 minutes or more, he remained fixed in the spot, trying not to look at Russel as he pretended to be absorbed in what he was reading.

"You gonna sit down or somethin'?" Russel asked after their period of silence. 

The sudden sound of the drummer's voice nearly made Murdoc jump from where he was standing. His neck began to sweat more, along with his forehead. He knew Russel was calm and collected from where he was, but the tension was still present between them.

"Well-I, if you don't mind," Murdoc uttered. "Do you?"

Russel repressed a sigh, putting his newspaper down next to him. "I'm not gonna hurt you, man. But I do want to talk with you."

Now it was Murdoc's turn to raise his eyebrows in complete surprise. 

"Noodle separated us yesterday for a reason. And I think you know what that reason was, right?"Russel asked.

"You flipped the kitchen table on me."

"Well, yeah...there's that," Russel cleared his throat. "It was because I was being irrational. I wasn't thinking about what you'd been through while you were gone. I didn't even listen."

Murdoc nodded, to show that he was listening. He sat down on the couch, his body adjusting to the familiar form of the cushion. Russel, who was seated on the couch's opposite end, sighed and peered his eyes the floor. 

"You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to," Russel continued. "But you should know that I'll listen this time. What I did yesterday was...not what I wanted to happen. So whatever it is you wanna say, I'll listen."

Murdoc shifted his position on the couch, feeling the stress between him and Russel begin to decline. His surroundings, including the shadowed part of the living room, seem to get brighter and much more familiar to him. He still had worry boiling up inside of him, but it was the type of worry that could be diminished just by letting all of it out.

"I'm lost without him, Russ," Murdoc blurted. 

Russel nodded, to show he was listening. "I want him back as much as you do. I mean, it hasn't been long, but I still feel like it happened yesterday."

"Does it ever feel like there's an empty hole in your heart where he should be? Like a piece of you is missing and there's no way to get it back?"

"Is that how you feel?"

Murdoc nodded. "Yes."

Russel was unaware that he was grasping a page of his newspaper in a sweaty fist, making a soft crinkling noise next to him. He ripped off a section, running the paper between his fingers. 

"You two were close," Russel said. "He was a huge part of your life, wasn't he?"

"Yes...he was," Murdoc replied. 

"I don't mean to sound ignorant, but it seemed like you were the closest to him out of all of us," Russel said. 

Murdoc nodded once more, starting to feel a lump forming in the back of his throat. "There's something you don't know, Russ. About why it happened."

  Russel dropped the rippled paper he was holding, looking at Murdoc. "About the accident?"

 "It was our last conversation. And I still remember the last words he spoke," Murdoc breathed. The beating in his chest was beginning to grow stronger, making it harder to speak.

"What did he say?" Russel asked. 

Murdoc did not reply.

"Muds?"

_"All I'm trying to say, Murdoc, is that...I want you to tell them the truth."_

_"And what do you think that's gonna do? They wouldn't know what to think!"_

_"You can't keep this a secret forever. It was fun when it was a fling, but times have changed. Please, I just...want this to be real."_

_"It is real. It's been that way for years, and there's no use changing it now."_

_"Now. Now is when we change. If you love me, you need to trust me-"_

The lump in Murdoc's throat dropped. With a deep breath, he looked directly at Russel fighting the tears filling his eyes. "If you love me, you need to trust me."

Russel's mouth gaped slightly open. He could see Murdoc's eyes starting to rapidly fill with tears. "You mean..."

"I loved him, Russ."

Once Murdoc had choked out those words, the emotions he had been keeping in himself completely shattered. When one tear escaped from his eye, another two, then three, four, five followed after until they turned into floods. His shaking turned into uncontrollable shuddering as the room around him seemed to grow smaller and smaller with each gasping breath. 

And for once in his life, Murdoc let himself go. He did not hold back, even when Russel got up from where he was sitting just to sit beside him. Murdoc did not curse or cower away when Russel put one arm around his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

"I had no idea," he uttered. 

Russel remained beside Murdoc, who continued to cry himself out until he had finally shed his last tear. Murdoc stared down at his lap, noticing that he had stopped shaking. The fear he had felt before had seemed to cease. His surroundings were still surreal, even more so through his moist eyes. However, for the first time since the funeral, Russel was present in and outside his mind.

"He'd wanted to tell you and Noodle that day," Murdoc barely whispered. "But I was too certain that it would mean the end. Not just for me and him, but all of us."

Russel sighed, letting a stream of tears fall down his own face. "But it wouldn't have."

"I realized that only when I knew he was gone."

Russel let go of Murdoc's shoulder when he got up from the couch to lean against the window. He opened the window shade, letting the sunlight pour into his eyes. He felt himself start to grow warm, letting his lungs inhale, exhale and indulge the sun's embrace.

"Russel," Murdoc said. "I'm so sorry."

Russel remained on the couch as Murdoc continued to look out the window at the street below. "What for?" he asked.

"For acting the way I did. I wish I could take everything back."

A single siren wailed outside as Murdoc ran his fingers through the thin fabric of a single window shade. He wanted to cry more, but it was as if his tears were being absorbed by the sunlight.

"I'm guessing there's a lot of other things Noodle I don't-er, didn't understand about you and him,"  Russel said from behind Murdoc. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I was too hard on you when I didn't know what was goin' on inside your own head."

"No," Murdoc said. He turned away from the window, facing towards Russel. "I brought this on myself. And I have to make things right again."


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

 

Although he had defeated the shadow that had been haunting him since 2D's death, Murdoc's mind was still scarred. He was still having nightmares. His flashbacks were beginning to grow fuzzy. There were days when Murdoc could hardly remember what 2D's face had looked like-and days where he would not even think about 2D unless Russel or Noodle mentioned his name.

"I found one of 2D's melodicas...It's so dusty."

"Murdoc, I found this jacket in the living room-it looks just like the one 2D used to wear."

"I wonder how 2D's parents are doing...we haven't met for a few months now..."

The mention of 2D always came like a small shock to Murdoc, sending a wave of grief through him as soon as he remembered that day. It was a sort of repression that pushed nearly every memory of 2D in the back of his head like a locked vault. But with every time that 2D came through his mind, the shocks were weaker and smaller, making it easier for Murdoc to forget.

But there was one place that Murdoc could never go again to forget, to take refuge, or to isolate himself. And that was 2D's bedroom. 

Every time he climbed the stairs to his own bedroom, he would look at the next flight of stairs that led to the top floor. Beyond where he stood, the stairs turned into a patch of total darkness, with no sign of light or life. Murdoc looked up at the darkness every day, remembering the room he locked himself in for months on end, only leaving for food and using the toilet. All of his hangovers, all the nightmares, all of his days that he thought would spend the rest of his life...

Every day Murdoc looked up at the darkness, telling himself he would never go back. But one day, it took ahold of him. 

Murdoc put one foot on the first stair, followed by the other. He did the same with the second step. Right foot, left foot. The third stair. The fourth, the fifth. Murdoc did not hesitate for a moment, not even to turn back.

Once he had reached the last step, space around Murdoc immediately grew cold, sending a bitter chill through his body. The light on the ceiling was burnt out, a layer of dust lined the floor, and the bedroom's door handle was covered with cobwebs. Murdoc stood above the stairs, staring at the handle as his body grew number to the cold around him. A certain blackness started to envelop Murdoc's body, sending sudden flash floods of memories he was trying to forget. 

He firmly leaned against the wall, hitting it with a small  _thump_. Murdoc's heart began to pound against his chest, faster and faster with each passing second. Every image of 2D that Murdoc had tried to repress in his mind came back to him, all at once. He felt as if he was stuck to the wall, and would never be let go. Murdoc looked at the door handle, fighting a stream of tears in his eyes. He closed them tightly, only to see 2D's face once more.

"Stop it..." Murdoc uttered.  "I can't do this now."

Murdoc tore himself from the wall, slightly losing his balance near the top of the stairs. He blindly reached for the stair railing, collapsing under his own weight. Clutching at his chest with one hand while his knuckles on the other grew white around the railing, he slowly began to descend the stairs. As he regained his stability, he took in deep breaths while the room temperature suddenly began to rise. Murdoc leaned against another wall, letting the warmth grow in his body. 

He was so distraught, he did not notice the creak of footsteps coming from the stairs below him. 

"Murdoc? Are you up here?"

Noodle reached the floor to find Murdoc still leaned against the wall. She eyed him, unsure if something was wrong or not.

"Is...everything okay?" she inquired.

"I-tripped. On the stairs," Murdoc blurted. "I'm fine. Nothing's broken." 

Noodle studied him skeptically, but even she couldn't see past Murdoc's calm state. "Oh...were you in 2D's room?"

"No."

It wasn't a lie, yet Murdoc felt as if it was. The mention of 2D's name made him flinch.

"There's dinner downstairs if you're hungry," Noodle replied. "Fish and chips."

Murdoc had not even eaten breakfast yet, let alone thought about a full meal. His appetite had grown back to normal ever since he stopped drinking, but the mention of food made his pupils dilate.

"Yeah. I'll be right down. Thanks, love."

Noodle gave Murdoc a small smile, then made her way back down the stairs. That smile was enough for Murdoc to take a deep breath, sending a sensation of calm in him. Inhale. Exhale. 

Once Murdoc was calm again, he followed Noodle down the stairs. When he entered the kitchen, a waft of fresh salt and grease hit his nostrils. The table was set with plates and silverware, which was where Russel was already setting a pan of fresh fish.

"Looks good, Russ," Murdoc said.

"Thanks," Russel said. "I can't remember the last time I cooked a full meal."

The three of them sat themselves down, taking their share of fish and chips from the center of the table. It was there when Murdoc realized it was their first meal together for months, set up as if they were a family. And for once, it felt normal. 

"Can you believe both me and Russel have work off today?" Noodle said.

"Is that right?" Murdoc asked. He took a bite of a single chip, which burst with flavor in his mouth.

"It's a damn miracle," Russel grumbled. "I can finally go one day without mixing drinks in my  _sleep._ But I feel like I wanna  _do_ somethin'. It's a perfect day out, it might as well be summer."

"You're not working tomorrow, are you?" Noodle asked.

Russel groaned. "No...Gregg asked me to take his shift on-er, what day is tomorrow?"

"I think it's the 23rd-" Noodle immediately stopped. She could feel the slightest swell of tears in her eyes, and the others knew it too. 

"2D's birthday," Murdoc said. 

"I forgot about that," Russel replied. 

The three of them stared over their fish and chips as a lull of silence fell over the kitchen. Murdoc immediately knew the direction this moment would take-Noodle would excuse herself from the table first, wash all the dishes, then distract herself from crying by cleaning the entire flat. Russel would turn on the living room television and fall asleep there until nightfall. And Murdoc...he would drink. Drink out his soul, his life, just to forget. And the only place he could drink was in 2D's room.

But he wouldn't let it happen. He would never let it happen again.

"Russel," Murdoc said. "How much gas is in the car?"

Russel peered up from his plate, just finishing off his last bite of fish. "I just filled it last night. Why?"

"I think we need a holiday."

 

~~~

 

_"It's all in the wrist, you see...then you stand like this and...there it goes!"_

_The stone skipped along the surface of the water, creating one, two, three, then four ripples until it sunk to the bottom._

_"Sometimes I wish I were Jesus, just so I could walk on the ocean."_

_"Then how would you swim?"_

_"If I can't swim, I can't drown."_

_"Jesus probably wasn't a swimmer, then."_

_Murdoc watched 2D as he skipped another stone across the water. It made two ripples before sinking into the sea, followed by a frustrated sigh from the singer. The sun was just starting to set in front of the towering island, its light giving 2D's face a orangish glow. He continued to skip stones, as Murdoc watched the ripples float until they disappeared._

_"You wanna try one?" 2D asked._

_Murdoc shrugged. "I just need any old rock to chuck, don't I?"_

_"Nuh-uh. It has to be flat. Round ones will just sink," 2D replied, shaking his head. "Here, try this one."_

_2D gingerly placed a black, pancake shaped stone in Murdoc's palm. Their fingers brushed against each other, which was a very familiar sensation for the two of them. Murdoc stared at the stone in his hand, then at 2D, leaning in for a long-awaited kiss._

Murdoc opened his eyes, looking directly at the setting sun.

He could hear the ocean calling his name. Calling him to walk in the water, to reach towards the horizon where the sun hit the surface, to leave the land behind.

But Murdoc was only reminded of one place-Plastic Beach.

His paradise of floating waste in the middle of the ocean, which was probably long gone at this point, had remained in the back of his mind. Murdoc knew that if there was one place he feared more than 2D's bedroom, it was his island. 

Years had passed since then. He and his bandmates had not even been back to the ocean since then.

"The water's fine, Russ. I won't go far."

Noodle's distant voice instantly snapped Murdoc out of his distant memory. He watched her tread into the water, kicking sand behind her feet. 

Murdoc wondered if she was still afraid of the ocean.

He looked back down in the sand, watching as a wave lifted the sand from his feet, sending the grains into the water. But when the wave passed, a flat stone drifted onto the sand. 

Murdoc picked up the stone, placing it in his palm.

_Murdoc and 2D's heads were pressed together, their lips mere centimeters away from touching. Still tightly holding the stone in one hand, Murdoc placed the other on 2D's face, lightly caressing his cheek._

_"Why are we here, Murdoc?" 2D said._

_Murdoc breathed, bringing the singer closer to him. "The end of the days. It's right where we are."_

_Despite Murdoc's gentle embrace, 2D pushed himself away. He looked at the older man straight in the eyes, brushing his azure hair away from his face._

_"We're free here," Murdoc continued. "It's only us. It's what you want, isn't it?"_

_"What I want?" 2D asked. "What I wanted was to be with you. But not here. There's nothing except the ocean-just miles and miles of ocean and garbage and that...thing I have to look at, that whale-"_

_2D stopped midsentence, trying to slow his breathing. Murdoc kept his grip on the stone as it began to slip from his palm._   _He took the stone and put it in his pocket._

_"All I want is for you to be happy. But it doesn't seem like you want me to do anything," 2D said. "Nothing here is real."_

_Murdoc's heart dropped in his stomach as 2D turned away from him. The singer skipped another stone on the water, only creating one ripple. The sun was barely visible on the horizon, it's orange turning into a deep shade of red._  

_"2D...am I real?"_

_2D sighed, still not looking at Murdoc. "I'm not so sure anymore."_

Murdoc pressed the stone between his fingers, feeling every small crevice and bump on its surface. The waves had started to calm down as the sun was starting to reach its final minutes in the horizon. He squeezed the stone one last time before sending it flying across the water. One, two, three ripples, until it sunk under the surface.

He reached in his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He pulled the lighter from the same pocket, slowly bringing it to the end of the box's last cigarette. He watched as the sea lapped gently against the coast, sending a gentle mist of salt and water to fly into his face. Murdoc looked at his cigarette, good enough for one last drag. He brought it to his lips, kissed it and inhaled. 

Exhaled...

Then it's gone. 

He threw the cigarette into the sand, watching the ember slowly fade away. At that moment, the sun had disappeared under the waves.

"Still doesn't seem real, does it?" Russel from behind him spoke.

Murdoc sighed. "Life itself is a nightmare. He just woke up too early." 

Russel sat down on the beach, drawing circles in the sand. "Then we still must be sleepin.'"

"We're getting out of this hellhole, Russel," Murdoc said. "I can't stand to be here much longer."

"We can't escape from reality, Muds," Russel replied bleakly. "There was nothing we could've done."

The two of them sat in complete silence, watching, listening to the ocean speak to them.


	27. Epilogue

The present.

It was a concept that Murdoc never considered or comprehended. It used to be that his mind was always looking towards the future, letting his amibtions and dreams take complete hold of his life. Back in the band's days, he was the spark that led him and the others onward. Murdoc supposed it was after they reunited from Plastic Beach that the spark went dull. There was no music, just them trying to have ordinary lives with no music.

And there would most likely be no more music.

After 2D's death, time itself slipped from Murdoc's grasp. There was no future. There was no present. It was only the past. Endless days and nights dwindling on memories of 2D's face, every moment they shared together until it was brought to an abrupt halt. And even now, Murdoc still felt stuck in the past. He could feel the present coming back to him as he continued to become more sober. 

He hadn't tasted a single drop of alcohol for months, not even when Russel still came home smelling of whiskey. 

Murdoc's appearance had changed significantly since his return from his motel stay. His gray sweaters were packed away in his closet and replaced with white t-shirts and button-downs. He began to take care of his skin better by washing every day and shaving his facial hair every other week. The dark circles under his eyes began to disappear with better sleep. Russel and Noodle took careful note of his changes, and were proud that he was able to win his internal war. After all, Murdoc owed his life to them.

May had eventually faded into a very rainy June, leaving Murdoc home to patch up the water leaks from the ceiling. This also meant that he had to go to the top floor, where 2D's room was.

It was as if the rain was a wake-up call. Murdoc had been avoiding the thought of going up to that room, because he knew that the past would flood him all over again. But one stormy day when the rain fell hardest, he realized it would be his last resort.

After putting a bucket under a leak in Noodle's room, he stepped out and made his way to the stairs. He flicked on the light, seeing the thick layer of floating dust that had formed in the air. Murdoc climbed the last couple of steps, coughing from the particles getting in his mouth. Once more, the door handle beckoned him, pleading to be opened. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

Murdoc held his breath as his hand latched onto the handle. He turned it sideways, breaking the cobwebs that had formed over time. The door made a low creak as Murdoc opened it inch-by-inch. 

When Murdoc turned on the light, the room was the exact same as he remembered.

Beer cans littered the floor. The bed was unkempt and the pillows were tossed to the side. Cigarette ashes were everywhere. 2D's clothes were hung over the bed and the windowsill. The smell of beer and ash had been replaced with a musty scent that made Murdoc feel faint. The hardwood floor had also come up in places where the rain had been absorbed. The ceiling was cracking in several places and dripping water. And it was still terribly cold.

The bathroom was clean, however. Murdoc guessed it was Noodle and Russel who organized the cupboard and scrubbed the grime on the tiles. 

But the bedroom. Murdoc couldn't leave it that way. All the cans, the ashes, the mess that he had left behind was still there. It was the last living evidence of Murdoc's downfall, something that nearly cost him his own life. 

Before he could think anymore, Murdoc started to work.He started by picking up his beer cans and tossing them in a black garbage bag. He washed and dried all of 2D's clothes and the bedsheets. All of the cigarette ashes were vaccummed from the floor and sprayed with air freshener. Several air fans were brought up from the kitchen to air out the moisture. And lastly, Murdoc opened the window to let in some badly-needed fresh air. 

It was finished within 2 hours, which was enough time to leave the bedroom looking completely different than before. Murdoc leaned out of the window, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

"Wow...did you do this?"

Murdoc turned his head away from the window, looking at Russel standing in the doorway. He smiled as he walked into the room, observing every little detail.

"Yeah. Does it look alright to you?" Murdoc said.

Russel cleared his throat from the dust. " It looks great. Really, great. I was starting to wonder if you'd...well,ever come back up here again."

Murdoc sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing the hair from his eyes. "I was too. That was until I realized something."

"What?" Russel asked.

"I left my Cuban heels in the closet."

Russel let out a snort and nudged Murdoc on the shoulder. Murdoc chuckled, giving Russel a small shove as he sat down next to him.

"Now what, huh?" Russel said with a smile.

"I dunno," Murdoc replied with a sigh. "If 2D was renting out his room, what would he want it to be turned into?"

"That's an interesting thought. Pretty much everything in here is his-"

The two of them were startled by a small knock on the door. 

"It's about time this room was cleaned," Noodle said from behind them. "It looks amazing, Russel."

"Oh, this wasn't me, love. It was Muds," Russel said. "I couldn't do all of this by myself."

Noodle looked at the two of them with disbelief. "Murdoc?  _You_ did this?"

 "Just call me the maid now, if you want," Murdoc said with a smirk.

Noodle laughed, sitting herself down on the bed next to Russel. "Then you have to help me with the chores now. Starting tonight with the dishes."

Everyone laughed in unison, including Murdoc who had not genuinely felt this happy in a long, long time. 

"I need to show you both something," Murdoc said. "It's important."

Murdoc lifted himself from the bed as Russel and Noodle watched him with curiosity. He dug through the desk, which had been cleared off and polished to reveal a beautiful wood finish. He opened the smallest drawer, taking out a single piece of notebook paper with a single rip bound together by tape. 

"Is that...his handwriting?" Noodle asked.

Murdoc nodded. "An unfinished song. I don't know when he wrote it, but look at the top."

Russel and Noodle peered over the paper, reading the message:  _"_ _Untitled song for the best band mates in the world: Murdoc, Russel and Noodle. I miss you guys."_

"I've never seen those lyrics before," Russel said. "And the paper looks almost new."

"How will we know..." Noodle uttered.

"When the morning comes..." Russel said.

 "We are still human...How will we know? How will we dream..."  Murdoc finished the paper as he traced his finger along the tape.

The three of them sat in silence, whispering the lyrics over and over again. Tears filled Noodle's eyes as she leaned on Murdoc's shoulder. Russel wrapped his arm around the both of them as they repeated the words to each other.

And at that moment, Murdoc's achromatic world turned into color. 

 

~~~

I can't believe,,,that I finished this. I've been working on this since my senior year of high school. It's gone through so much change, so much work, so much development, and it started from a simple concept. Words can't describe how much I love this story, and now it's finally completed. Most of this was written during a very hard time in my life, almost to the point where writing about Murdoc was similar to my own experiences. A LOT can happen in a year and a half, and that's just what this story represents. There's so much else I want to say, but thank you thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of you so much and I can't wait to write more in the future.

xx

_theinvisiblesister_


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